


What a Kiss

by minkit



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Drama, Fake Dating, Friendship, Homophobia, M/M, One-Sided Love (for MULTIPLE characters!), Romance, Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, allusions to sex between a minor and adult, boundary crossing, pro soccer player!Type, rockstar!tharn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 106,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkit/pseuds/minkit
Summary: Type Thiwat, pro-soccer player, meet Tharn Kirigun, rock star.After a passionate kiss on New Years is released to the internet, the two are thrust into a whirlwind of fangirl shipping and fake dating sponsorship deals. But something unbelievable happens when fake feelings turn into real emotions and the two struggle over lines that shouldn't be crossed and lines that never existed in the first place.
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Comments: 850
Kudos: 1057





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be posted until New Years Eve but I couldn't WAIT anymore! I wanted to post the first chapter. Yes, the first chapter! I have decided to make this into a multi-chaptered fic and a LOT of chapters (ten, specifically) are already written so I should be able to update fairly regularly. I'm actually really proud of what I've written of it so far and I hope so much that you guys enjoy it!
> 
> I hope you guys have a wonderful start to the new decade! Happy New Year everyone!

Type was feeling just the tiniest bit tipsy. Definitely far less than many of the others, including his best friend and teammate Techno. But it was still certainly enough to be a little less annoyed that he’d been dragged out of his warm bed in order to attend this exclusive party. Type wasn’t even sure how No had managed to get invited. Sure, they were celebrity soccer stars but most of the people here were musicians and actors.

Of which, Type definitely wasn’t. 

There were many beautiful people to look at, both girls and guys (although the latter of which he wouldn’t let his eyes linger for too long. Again, his world was sports and it wasn’t nearly as okay for him to like men as it was for one of the many BL actors in attendance). Type kind of wondered if he even really blended in much. He knew he was good looking, but on the level of some here? Not even close. For instance, in attendance was none other than Tharn Kirigun, only the drummer of the most popular band in Thailand and also known to be the best looking of the members.

Type definitely couldn’t measure up to a guy like that. It kinda worked a bit on his inferiority issues. 

He groaned and ordered another beer. It was about an hour to midnight and then he’d make some sort of excuse to get back home and go to sleep. Type just really wasn’t feeling it tonight. 

“I’ll get one of those too.” Said a voice from beside him and Type glanced over, pausing as he brought his current bottle up to his lips for the last remaining sip as he waited for the next to be set in front of him.

Tharn Kirigun. Handsome as ever, looking every bit the rockstar that he was. The dress shirt he wore was pushed up to the elbows and unbuttoned three buttons, exposing a good expanse of smooth, tan skin. Bracelets of both bead and leather covered his left wrist that pressed down into the countertop barely a foot away from Type. A light sheen of sweat shone off of him, just like glitter—or perhaps it was glitter. He couldn’t really tell in the darkness of the club. 

“Hey,” the man grinned at him, white teeth almost glinting and Type almost felt as if he were prey being sized up by a predator. Tharn was certainly large enough to be a predator, yet he didn’t feel endangered. That was something at least. “I’m Tharn.”

The fresh, cold bottle of beer was set in front of him and Type grabbed it, taking a drink before giving the man a polite smile. “Yeah, I know who you are. Hard not to.”

Tharn continued to smile, looking almost expectant and Type sighed. Why did men always hit on him? Was there a sign on his back that pronounced to the world that he was interested in men? Cause he wasn’t (well, he was—but he didn’t act on it). 

“I’m Type,” he answered finally and took another drink. 

“Type—you’re a… soccer player, right?” 

He eyed him, a little surprised that he even knew that and his shock must’ve shown on his face because Tharn laughed, lowering himself onto the stool next to him. “I know a little about sports. I’m not just a dumb musician.” 

“I didn’t say you were dumb.” Type could be crass but he tried not to be rude. 

“Most people tend to think it.” 

“Most people tend to think sports players are dumb.” Type pointed out and Tharn smiled. He hated the way that smile did things to him. Maybe he had drank a bit too much. 

“That’s true.” Tharn conceded and then turned to face him a bit more. “What’s your favorite LBC song?” LBC was the name of Tharn’s band. Type hated that he knew it so easily.

Type stared at him, hand tight around the neck of the bottle, lips parted as he looked on, a little dumbfounded. “How do you know if I even  _ know  _ any LBC songs?” He asked, glancing downward only to notice the skin tight, acid splashed dark jeans that Tharn wore over thick thighs. 

He quickly looked back up. 

Tharn gave a little whine, leaning a bit more forward. “Everyone knows at least one LBC song.” He said this so matter-of-factly that Type has difficulty thinking up some sort of rebuttal. 

He was right anyway. 

He gave a slight grumble. “My favorite is Be Mine.” Type drank, ignoring the huge grin that came upon Tharn’s face.

“That was our first single. Most people barely even know the song exists. So you are a fan?” Type was actually a huge fan, but there was no way that he was going to admit that. 

“Well, it’s my favorite. The others suck.” He told him, an unamused expression on his face that broke only slightly when Tharn gave him a pout. 

“You are a mean one, Mr. Grinch.” 

“It’s not Christmas.” Type rolled his eyes. 

“But it’s still December for about…” Tharn pulled out his phone. “Another thirty-eight minutes.” Type couldn’t exactly argue with that logic, so he allowed it. Something told Type that Tharn would have an argument for anything he said, and a better one than Type would be able to come up with himself. It was frustrating, somewhat, considering Type’s own stubbornness when it came to  _ not  _ letting people win an argument or, at the very least, get the last word in. 

“I haven’t seen you move from this spot since you came in.” Tharn told him as Type choked a little on his drink, giving him a careful, but slightly questioning look.

“You say that as if you’ve been staring at me since I first came in.” There was no way. Why would Tharn Kirigun be staring at him for that amount of time? And why did it make his heart skip when he thought of it?

Tharn gave a sheepish smile, suddenly looking a little less confident and a bit more shy. It was a cute look on him, Type had to admit that. “Guilty.” He shrugged a bit, his shoulders coming up around his ears as he leaned heavily on his forearms. “So… do you want to step away from the bar and go dance for a bit?”

He froze, his hand tight around the cool bottle. Did he want to dance? Type never really wanted to dance, so why did a part of him want to say yes? Perhaps this beer was a bit stronger than the beer he was used to. Perhaps he was actually getting drunk off of it. But he didn’t feel drunk, barely even felt a slight buzz. Yet his pulse was racing and he suddenly felt sweaty on his palms. He moved his hands from the bottle and slid his hands against his jeans, trying to quell the queasy nervousness that he felt in the pit of his stomach. 

“I really don’t--”

But Tharn took his wrist before he could even say no properly and Type had a feeling that even if he were to say no, the other man probably wouldn’t listen, which got on his nerves a bit, but not enough to give more than a slight tug of his arm, only trying to free himself from the grasp of the rockstar for show, because dancing, as much as he hated it, actually sounded a little bit fun. Or maybe it was because he remembered hanging up LBC’s, and particularly Tharn’s, debut posters in his room when he was seventeen. They were the same age, but while Type was finishing up his high school years, Tharn was releasing his first studio album with his band.

When they got to the middle of the dance floor directly under a cheesy disco ball that had to at least be a good two feet in circumference, Tharn stubbed tugging him and began moving along with the beat that the DJ was producing. Type kind of just stared at him, jaw a little slack and unsure of what to do because when he said he didn’t dance, he really meant it. Type didn’t really know how--the most dancing he did was alone in his bedroom wearing his underwear and jumping around blasting rock music, and that was something only his parents and best friend from home Kom had seen him do--and he’d made Kom swear on his life (after he had gotten done laughing at him) to never tell another soul what he had seen Type doing.

Of course, he’d been dancing to LBC’s debut album at the time and that was something Type really wanted to forget right about now, as he stood in front of LBC’s drummer. 

“Come on! Dance!” Tharn grinned at him and  _ gosh _ , what a smile it was because Type’s heart flipped and he hated himself for letting it do so. Type rolled his eyes and then kind of began to bounce up and down, not really moving his feet and mostly moving his head and he expected Tharn to laugh at him, but he didn’t and it made Type feel a little bit more comfortable, a little bit more confident that hey, maybe he really wasn’t such a bad dancer after all. 

Slowly, he got a little more comfortable. Comfortable enough that he didn’t really notice, or maybe he just didn’t mind, Tharn’s hands grasping at his hips. Nobody else really seemed to notice either because they were all drunk and dancing too and the entire floor was lit up with glow necklaces and bracelets, the blacklight creating a kind of slow motion yet somehow vibrant flow of movement. 

Type felt drunk. He felt more drunk now than he did when he had been drinking, or maybe it was the body heat from being so close to Tharn and the hordes of dancing bodies, most of which were celebrities he recognized, all letting loose, but still behaving in a way that would be deemed appropriate for stars like themselves.

Briefly, he wondered where Techno was and if he had just abandoned him, but then he felt Tharn’s hand touch the small of his back and Type’s first instinct was to pull away. It was the second instinct he decided to follow when he pressed even closer, his breath becoming a little bit short and mind a little dizzy. Was he having a heat stroke? Yet he didn’t feel endangered, but rather quite safe, especially when he trailed his hands down the other man’s arms. He wondered how a drummer had such strong arms, but he supposed drumming involved a lot of movement of the arms, so it made sense.

They were getting closer and the room was starting to get quieter. It had to be an illusion of the mind, however, because he was pretty sure there were still hundreds of people surrounding him, but all he could hear was the sound of his and Tharn’s own breathing and all he could see was the dark eyes that stared into his own. They were so easy to get lost into, and Type really almost lost himself until the vibrations of the loud music came to a stop and a person speaking into a microphone brought him back to reality.

He quickly jumped away from Tharn, his heart pounding so rapidly in his chest that he was pretty sure it was going to either explode or leap up and out of his mouth.

What the hell had come over him? Had he really just been about to kiss Tharn Kirigun? Type didn’t kiss men, especially not extremely popular, famous men like him.

“Everyone! We have about one minute until it hits midnight so please find your partners if you want that New Years kiss!” Everyone cheered and Type glanced to his side to see Tharn clapping and playing along. Type really should get out of here. He really should make his escape while everyone was distracted and get outside, where the fresh air was, where he could catch a cab (screw Techno--he’d abandoned him, so he’d be on his own), and head back home and go to bed.

Sounded like a wonderful idea.

But he felt a hand on his elbow and then he could hear the mob of people beginning to count down and he felt the distinct emotion of panic start to well up in his chest.  _ 10, 9, 8…  _ He wanted to leave. It wouldn’t be hard to pull away from Tharn’s hand on him, but his feet weren’t moving.  _ 7, 6, 5…  _ he swallowed tightly, feeling the dizziness begin to take over him, his stomach once again tying itself into knots. He knew what was coming and the mix of excitement and dread fought inside of him.  _ 4, 3, 2… _

Here it was.

_ “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”  _

And then there were lips on his so quickly that Type almost didn’t realize it was happening until he was already kissing back, not even any hesitation from himself. His arms slid up the arms and shoulders that held him, locking his hands behind Tharn’s neck as he leaned into the kiss, noticing only now that Tharn was a few centimeters shorter than himself. 

A tongue slid against his lips and Type felt himself weak in the knees, easily parting his mouth and this kiss was lasting way longer than the normal New Years kiss should, but he found that he didn’t mind, found that he enjoyed this way more than any normal, self-proclaimed, heterosexual boy should, but Tharn was a good kiss. A  _ really  _ good kisser and Type couldn’t help but eagerly suck at the tongue that had entered his mouth.

His fingers delved into the slightly wet hair at the back of Tharn’s neck and he gave a small whimper into the kiss, pressing himself closer, feeling the muscled body against his own and enjoying it way too much.

Type pulled back finally, panting, his lips feeling wet and slightly swollen and he nervously glanced up at Tharn who was staring at him with this  _ look  _ that made Type feel both nervous, but excited. It had been Type’s first New Years kiss, and what a kiss it had been.

With a blink and a deep breath in, Type leaned in and kissed Tharn again. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I really wanted to update again because I'm trash and crave attention. I hope you enjoy!

Type had barely been pushed into the hotel room when he felt hands grasping at the bottom of his shirt, trying to tug the fabric off of him. A part of him wondered how he had ended up in this situation, but the bigger part of himself already knew. 

Perhaps it was all these years of denying how much his curiosity hungered for this, or maybe he was just more drunk than he had thought he was and his inhibitions were loose and he was giving into lust and the urge to get off, Type didn’t really know which it was. He didn’t really care which it was. What he cared about was getting the clothes off quickly as possible, his fingertips burning to touch the skin that was hidden beneath Tharn’s clothes. From what he had felt while dancing, he’d definitely be pleased with what he found. 

And it seemed that Tharn was just as eager as he was because once Type’s shirt had managed to be pulled over his head (and probably messing up his hair even more than it had already been messed up, what with all that dancing and making out they’d been doing), his large hands began to wander, feeling him over. Type’s skin tingled, his blood burned in his veins and somehow he felt the back of his legs knock into the bed and he went tumbling backwards, away from Tharn’s roaming fingers, but also in the perfect position to get a close look at Tharn himself.

From this angle, Tharn was fairly intimidating. Though a little shorter than Type himself, he was much broader, much thicker, and stronger seeming. It was obvious that he worked out and Type wanted to question it, ask him how often he went to the gym and what gym he went to, maybe Type also went there--but he held himself back, swallowing down the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. 

“Shirt…” he breathed out finally, leaning back upwards, his fingers trembling as he began to undo the rest of the buttons that held Tharn’s shirt closed, even though almost half of the shirt was already opened. 

Tharn didn’t say anything, instead just peered down and watched as Type removed his shirt. It caused him to be a little nervous and he cursed as he had trouble getting one of the buttons undone until, finally, he didn’t care any longer and at the third time of failing to push it through the whole, he just pulled the shirt apart, the button popping off.

“I’ll get it fixed…” he mumbled, feeling the heat in his cheeks from his own embarrassment, but he was going to just pretend it was from the alcohol and his overheated body from all of the dancing among hordes of bodies. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Tharn told him, and there was a strange pitch to his voice. It wasn’t the way that Tharn had been talking for the rest of the night previously, but Type decided not to question it. If he questioned it and they began talking, he’d probably chicken out, and he didn’t really want to chicken out. He wanted to do this, against all of his better judgements, he wanted to do this. He wanted to feel this. He wanted to, for once, stop worrying about what other people would say, stop worrying about his own internal homophobia and instead just do what he felt like doing. 

Seeing Tharn above him, his shirt open and muscles strong and defined, Type had to admit that he’d never been more turned on. No girl, no matter how pretty and sexy and sensual they were, had ever turned him on so much. And it wasn’t because Type wasn’t attracted to girls, he was, but maybe it was because it was something he was used to. This was something new, something that he had, for so many years now, forbidden himself and maybe it was that forbidden aspect of it all that was affecting him so much.

And maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe he wanted to stop thinking and just do this. So that’s what he did. He stopped thinking and leaned forward and pushed the dress shirt from Tharn’s shoulders and off of his arms, watching as the thin, white fabric fell to the floor. 

Tharn also watched it and then he was looking at him and things got a little softer, a little quieter. Type let himself take all of this in. He let his eyes wander, memorizing over every single inch of Tharn’s chest that he could, at least as much as he could. And then he reached forward, hesitating, wanting to touch, but suddenly feeling unsure of himself and maybe Tharn realized that, because he grabbed Type’s hand and touched it to his own chest.

He blinked, his skin feeling as if it were on fire from the mere touch and he let his fingers slide along the tanned, warm skin. Type almost wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear, he was so nervous, but, as his hand slid lower along Tharn’s abdomen, that nervous feeling became something else. It unknotted in his stomach and then tied into a different knot, heavier but more pleasant, less sickly and more relaxed, hotter, more eager. 

It was only a touch, but it was more than Type had ever allowed himself before. Then he felt fingers on his jaw and his head was tilted up and he saw Tharn staring at him, a curious glint to his gaze. Type wanted to ask what was wrong, but before he could, his mouth was covered with the drummer’s lips. His eyes fell shut so naturally that he almost thought he had decided to take a nap instead, but it was definitely just a natural instinct of kissing a person. But it felt so comfortable, as if Type was already used to kissing a man, kissing Tharn, and he kissed back. This kiss was much gentler than the kiss they had shared on the dance floor, and Type found his heart skipping too much to be healthy. He felt warm and full and light-headed all at once. 

He dug his fingers into his chest just a bit and felt hands grasp at his arms, slowly pushing him back down onto the bed. Instead of fighting it, he let himself relax into it. Type enjoyed it instead, the way he could feel Tharn’s knee rest on the bed in between his legs, leaning over him to kiss him better, more deeply. Their tongues entwined and Type’s hand that had been doing nothing this entire time, found its way to trail up the muscular arm of Tharn until it rested on his back and once again played with his hair at the back of his neck.

He noted that Tharn’s hair was soft, so much softer than his own and briefly wondered what kind of shampoo he used, but then he was distracted by a knee gently pressing into him and he pulled back from the kiss to gasp, clenching his eyes shut a little bit tighter in shock. 

“Are you okay?” He almost felt rather than heard Tharn murmur above him, but that was ridiculous because you couldn’t feel words so Type must’ve heard it.

Type swallowed and nodded, taking in a few deep breaths before he opened his eyes, his voice tight in his throat as he spoke. “I’m fine.” He replied, his hand tightening its grasp into Tharn’s hair.

“We can stop.” Tharn told him and Type wondered if that was what Tharn wanted and then wondered why did the idea of Tharn wanting to stop make him feel so sad. Then he realized that Tharn was just offering in case he wanted it, and he knew this because he could feel the grinding of Tharn’s knee (gently, carefully) against himself.

He shook his head when he realized that no, he didn’t want to stop. “We can keep going.” 

The reply made Tharn smile and Type felt his heart soar in his chest. He didn’t have much time to think about that however because the next moment, Tharn was leaving a trail of kisses down his throat and Type’s eyes were closing, teeth tugging on his own bottom lip as he arched his head backwards, exposing his own neck a bit more so that Tharn had as much room as he needed to do whatever it was that he wanted to do with him.

He had to breathe carefully. Type didn’t know why he had to breathe carefully, exactly, but he just felt like he had to. So that’s what he did. He took in slow breaths and slowly let them out. One of his hands scraped at the hotel bed comforter beneath his body, while the other twirled strands of dark hair around his fingers. In the quiet of the hotel room, all he could hear was the sound of Tharn’s breathing against his skin and the sound of his own beating heart. Tharn’s breath was hot against the wetness of his own kisses and it caused goosebumps to line Type’s skin. It was sensual and dizzying and Type wanted to ask for more, but wasn’t even sure what more really entailed so instead he stayed quiet and let Tharn do as he pleased. 

Apparently more entailed Tharn taking one of his nipples into his mouth, giving a slow, but almost harsh, suck. Type felt himself squirming as he tried to keep himself quiet. He didn’t really know why he needed to as they were in a hotel room and it was a fairly good one as well. Type couldn’t even hear a peep from other rooms so he figured they were fairly soundproof walls, but just the idea of making noises made Type’s entire body turn red with a heated flush. 

Fingers deftly unhooked the button of his jeans and in the quietness of the room he could hear his zipper being tugged down even more than he could feel it. His own straining heavy in his underwear, so much so that he couldn’t help the way his hips moved upwards, seeking the touch of Tharn’s hand. When he realized what he was doing he forcibly stilled himself and then he felt a laugh against his chest and Tharn pulled back, their eyes locking.

Type wanted to kick something to hide his embarrassment. 

“You’re surprisingly cute.” Tharn told him, looking a little sly and Type wondered if this was really how flirty he normally was, or maybe Type was just special. Type kind of hoped he was just special, but it was no secret that the widely popular drummer of LBC got around.

Type decided to ignore the strange burning in his chest as he thought of it.

“I’m not fucking cute.” He grumbled, but there was no real harshness to his voice. Instead there was just pained arousal as he tried to keep it out of his voice. Suffice to say that he failed. 

“You’re cute.” Tharn told him again and then his hands were pulling Type’s jeans down his thighs and then off, tossed somewhere over the other side of the bed. Type glanced downwards towards Tharn’s jeans and Tharn must’ve noticed because he then sat up and began to undo his. 

The drummer had to stand to peel his own pants off and Type wondered if wearing such tight jeans was necessary or if Tharn specifically did it to attract people. Perhaps like moths to a flame. Type guessed it worked. 

After the jeans were peeled off of him as well, Tharn leaned back over Type and resumed his kissing of his neck. Type appreciated this--less talk and more action was what he preferred and, strangely, he was less shy doing this than he was talking. It was more comfortable, and easier, to deal with. 

It still didn’t really stop the nerves, but he supposed that was only natural. Technically, he was about to experience something that he hadn’t before, and with a complete stranger. Yet, something felt right about it. Something told him he wasn’t going to regret this. He hoped that would be the case and come morning he wouldn’t wish that this interaction had never happened. 

Tharn’s hands covered practically his entire body, sliding along him and touching him in every spot that they could reach. He was exploring and Type leaned into the touches; stretching himself in every which direction to better help Tharn reach whatever it was he wanted to reach.

Fingers slid just beneath the waistband of his underwear and Type felt his breath hitch at the suddenness of it, even though it wasn’t sudden at all. He knew this was coming, but the sudden intake of breath seemed to reach Tharn’s ears because the other man hesitated over him, pulling back to meet his gaze. “You can tell me to stop whenever you want me to stop.”

Type knew this already, but it was nice to be told. Instead of replying, he just nodded his head and pulled Tharn’s head back down for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so no descriptive smut *this* time... but that's not to say there *won't* be in the future. If there is, I will be changing the rating of this story to Explicit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go... plot START!

All Type wanted to do was lay in his bed. Which is exactly what he was doing even though he should be up and about, helping his dad around the resort while he was visiting. But Type couldn’t bring himself to move from beneath his covers where he tried to block out the sound of people laughing from the beach nearby, resort-goers and foreigners having the time of their lives while Type tried to forget what had just happened a couple of nights before.

It was difficult to do that, however, when every time that Type closed his eyes, all he could see was Tharn Kirigun on top of him. The darkness of his gaze and the way the light sheen of sweat stuck to his tanned skin as his body arched down and then up. All he could remember was the taste of his lips and the feel of skin on skin and maybe he could forget it better if he got up, but he was afraid people would look at him and just know what he had gotten up to on New Years, and he didn’t want people to know. Didn’t want people to question when he’d suddenly started liking men. He had no answer for them.

Liking men wasn’t anything sudden, it had always been there but Type had worked hard to suppress that side of himself and he felt like he’d just given up all those years of hard work for one night of fun. He felt ill at the thought, but he also knew he hadn’t really done anything wrong. He was twenty-four and more than allowed to do whatever it was that he wanted. He doubted that his parents would even care. They were good people, supportive of anything he wanted to choose, even when that thing had been soccer instead of taking over the family’s resort like he knew his father had wanted. 

It was okay. That was what his father had said when he’d told him that he wanted to pursue soccer, that he’d gotten a scholarship to a university with a top soccer program. He had a chance at going pro, a real chance of it and Type thanked whatever deities were out there that he had the best parents in the world.

So would his parents care if he decided he wanted to be with a man? Probably not. Or maybe. Type wasn’t sure, but it also wasn’t like he wanted to be with a man either. All it had been was a one night stand and that’s all it would remain. Type doubted he’d ever have reason to come across Tharn Kirigun ever again and, as he peeked over the edge of his blanket and saw the LBC poster on the wall opposite of him, he’d make sure to avoid him at all costs. 

It wasn’t that it was bad. At least not on Tharn’s part even though he didn’t really do much. He hadn’t been sure what to do, but that hadn’t seemed to cause Tharn to enjoy it any less, if by the sounds of his grunts and moans had been anything to go by. Type had just responded in kind, moving his hips and scraping his nails along his back, showing him just how much he had enjoyed every little movement against his body, every little kiss and nip and--

Type squirmed a little beneath the covers before sitting up, pushing them down onto his lap as he brought his hands up to his head to rub at his temples. He really needed to stop thinking about this because it was doing way too much to him and Type was pretty sure he’d melt into the ground if he got hard thinking about his night of sex with Tharn and then he’d have to get off on it while thinking of it and then he’d be thinking about that--and it would just create this sort of vicious cycle that Type wanted to do everything in his power to avoid.

Maybe he really just needed to get up and see if his dad needed any help with repairs around the resort. Or something that would take his mind off of fucking Tharn Kirigun. Literally. 

Just as he was about to do this (in fact, in the midst of pushing the blankets completely off of his legs to stand up), there was a knock on the door and he blinked and looked up. His mom was out and he was pretty sure his dad was at the actual resort itself rather than their home lot so who the hell else could just come into their house like this? “Come in?” He questioned rather than said and the door was opened and a familiar, grinning face greeted him.

“Did you forget to tell me that you were coming? I had to hear it from your dad--”

“Kom!” Type exclaimed, almost leaping out of the bed at the excitement of seeing his childhood best friend for the first time in--he didn’t even remember how long.

“Well, it’s nice to see that you remember my name at least.” Kom teased as he closed the door and walked over to settle down on the edge of the bed next to Type. “But seriously, how could you forget to tell me you were visiting?”

“Sorry,” He apologized quickly, rubbing at the back of his neck in shame. “I’ve had a lot on my mind the last couple of days.” It was the truth, but he decided to leave out the details, even as Kom gave him a curious look. Type had never told Kom of his feelings towards other men. Growing up, Type had said a lot of things, a lot of horrible things about men who liked other men, and he felt too much embarrassment to now go back on all of those things and reveal that he felt that way too. 

Besides, while Kom had never voiced any opposition towards people like that, he’d never spoken up against the insults hurled by Type either and so Type wasn’t really sure what Kom’s entire thought process was on homosexuality. Type was too scared to find out now. 

“It’s cool,” Kom told him instead of pressing the issue and Type was incredibly thankful. Had it been Techno here, the guy would’ve poked him until Type smacked the shit out of him, and he really didn’t have the patience for it, as much as he also cared about Techno. Kom was calmer. They were two very different people, but just as good as friends. “You have plans today?”

“I was going to see if dad needed any help around the resort. You don’t have work today?” Kom helped manage a record shop in town while he studied at a veterinarian college just a few miles outside of the town. Type wasn’t from a rich family, but they did well with their successful resort. Still, the soccer scholarship had helped him out immensely. Unfortunately, Kom wasn’t so lucky. He lived with his single mother who worked two jobs so Kom had to also work a job in order to help support the two of them as well as to be able to afford school. 

“I took the day off.”

“Can you afford that?” Type asked carefully and Kom gave him a small smile and then shrugged. 

“Everyone needs a day off once in awhile, right?” He replied and Type just gave a small nod, not pressing any more than that. 

Type had offered a few times to help pay for Kom’s schooling. As a soccer star, Type was making good money on his own, more than he really needed, but Kom’s pride wouldn’t allow it. Still, every once in awhile when things were really tough for him and his mother, Type would wordlessly write him a check and Kom would take it with a quiet thanks and then they didn’t talk about it any more than that. Type knew it was hard for Kom and he hated to see his best friend suffer at all.

“Let me just change.” Type said before climbing out of his bed and going over to his bag that he hadn’t bothered to unpack. He pulled a clean pair of clothes on and began to change into them as Kom glanced around the room, standing from his bed.

“Want to grab lunch?” Kom asked and Type glanced over at his alarm clock next to his bed. It was almost noon and Type was feeling pretty hungry so he nodded and grabbed his phone and wallet, stuffing them into his pocket. 

Not too much longer later, the two of them were sat at their favorite sushi restaurant near the resort, a place they’d been going to since they were kids. Type laughed as Kom caught him up on the silly drama of the town and of people he used to know. Once in awhile, a person would come up to him, asking to take a picture with him and Type would put on his professional smile and say yes, even though what he really wanted to do was to tell them to fuck off, but he had an image to maintain and he wasn’t about to be rude to his fans. 

“Do you ever get used to that?” Kom asked after the fifth person came to get a picture with him. Type gave a slight roll of his eyes and shook his head, stuffing a piece of sushi into his mouth. 

“Not really.” he replied after swallowing and taking a sip of his water. “Especially when I’m out on a break like this. It’s a bit easier to deal with if I’m at an event but… lunch with a friend?” He pursed his lips, making it clear how he felt about it. 

“Still, I bet it’s cool to be famous.” Kom said lightly, something hidden in his words and Type tilted his head, trying to figure out what it was that Kom wanted to say but wasn’t. It was pretty much impossible, however, so he let it go. 

“It’s cool playing soccer for a living and getting lots of money. Honestly, I could live without all that other stuff.” He told him honestly, poking his chopsticks at a piece of salmon. “Techno enjoys it more than I do.”

“Techno seemed nice the one time I met him.” Kom noted, picking up his own piece of sushi to eat.

“He is. Out there he’s my best friend. Here you’re mine.” 

“Are you allowed two best friends?” Kom asked, smiling in a way that made it seem he was joking but Type knew he wasn’t, sensing the slight inferiority and jealousy hidden beneath the surface.

Type gave him a small grin and reached forward to smack the back of his head. “I say I’m allowed two best friends and you’re one of them. Sorry for the inconvenience of being my best friend, dude.” 

Kom gave a large sigh, playing along, but Type could see the relief rolling from him in waves. “Damn, I was so close to being rid of you too.”

“That’s so funny.” Type said dryly and Kom laughed, stealing a piece from Type’s plate. Type was just about to smack him again when his phone buzzed once, twice, three times--all at once and he blinked, looking down as all of a sudden messages popped up on his screen. 

He picked up his phone curiously, going to open them when his phone started ringing, the name on the screen reading Champ, his manager. “Gimme a sec,” He said to Kom who nodded and then he answered the phone. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen?” Champ said from the other end of the line, sounding a little panicked and that got Type sitting up a little straighter, wondering what the fuck had happened while he’d been at home hiding beneath his blankets.

“No? What am I supposed to have seen?” Type questioned and that got Kom looking at him curiously from across the table. 

“Okay, I’m sending you the article right now, read it and then call me back so we can figure out what we’re going to do about this Type.” Before Type could even think of responding, Champ hung up on him.

He blinked, phone still held to his ear before he brought it down to look at, opening up Champ’s line message that just appeared on the screen. 

“Everything okay?” Kom asked, but Type didn’t respond as he opened up the article and felt his body go ice cold.

His hands shook as he held onto his phone, a queasiness growing heavy in his stomach. Almost as if he were a long distance away, Type could hear Kom call his name but Type could only scroll slowly through the article, taking in all of the pictures. Pictures of him, pictures of--

Type leaned over the end of the booth and vomited onto the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has left comments on this so far <3 you really have no idea how much it means to me! I'm having a blast writing this (I just finished writing ch 14 before posting this actually) and I'm so eager to share it with you all! 
> 
> This chapter we get some Tharn! And we also find out what Type saw ;)

Tharn absently brought the stick down against the drums, trying to practice, but his mind was elsewhere. In fact, his mind was stuck in a few days previously when he had finally been able to go up to that soccer player, Type, and talk to him. He’d been wanting to for awhile, but he’d never had the chance and if he did have the chance, he never had the nerve, but finally he’d had both and he’d done it and they’d kissed.

And then they went back to Tharn’s hotel room for the night and did more and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. It was almost like a muscle memory, except instead of moving without thought, he remembered the way Type felt, how Type had tasted, the sounds that he had made and it was very distracting indeed. Tharn was barely able to practice. This was bad. Really bad. 

But also really good because he honestly couldn’t be much happier. When he thought of everything that had transpired, it reminded him that maybe fate really was real. How else could it be explained that everything had lined up so perfectly that Tharn would get to do what he’d been dreaming about doing for the last few months?

In all honesty, Tharn didn’t even know what had really caught his eye about the guy. He was good looking, but there were hotter guys around. He was athletic, but he wasn’t the main player on the team. Even in his interviews, he didn’t say much and he had this look about his face that told Tharn that if you said even one wrong letter, you’d get verbally attacked. But Tharn felt himself drawn to him anyway.

He’d been thinking that maybe it was a lustful, physical attraction. It was certainly that, but even after that night, after supposedly getting it out of his system, all Tharn could think about was how much he wished that he’d gotten Type’s number so that maybe he could call him and ask him out for lunch or coffee or something. But Type had left some time in the early morning without saying a word and Tharn hadn’t gotten the chance. 

If he used some connections that he had, Tharn was sure he could get his number but… would that be an invasion of privacy? Probably, and it’d also probably just make Type mad. Tharn wanted to get closer to the guy, not push him away. 

So he would control himself, until he could, hopefully, get another chance at getting Type’s number the right way. Maybe fate was real and would offer it to him, or maybe it was all in his head and the other night would be nothing more than a night that he’d look back on and think ‘what if’. 

That possibility was sad, however, so Tharn opted to believe in the first option instead. 

The door burst open and Tharn raised his eyebrows as his best friend and the lead singer of LBC, Lhong, burst into the room, holding his phone in his hand, looking slightly panicked, but Lhong could overreact sometimes so, whatever it was, Tharn figured this was just another one of Lhong’s overreactions.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Lhong breathed out, not closing the door behind him so the noises of the studio wafted into the room and Tharn sighed, pressing his hands into his thighs. 

“Can you shut the door? And because I turned my phone off so I wouldn’t be interrupted.” He side-eyed his friend who, begrudgingly, shut the door behind him before joining him over by the drum set, settling down on a speaker box. 

“You really need to check your phone.” Lhong stated, clutching his own in his hand. Tharn was tempted to just ask him to tell him whatever it was that Lhong wanted him to see, but he knew his friend and he knew that Lhong would insist he just look at his phone so he sighed and set the sticks down before reaching over to where he had set his phone.

He turned it back on, waiting the few seconds for it to load up. Tharn blinked when he saw about two dozen messages from at least a half dozen people. He raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lhong who pointed at the phone.

Tilting his head, he opened up the message from Lhong, there only being a link to an article of some sort and a series of exclamation points, but the picture of the article was all Tharn needed to see in order to know what the hell was going on.

The picture was blurry and dark, but it was, unmistakably, him and Type, kissing on the dance floor of the New Years party and he wondered who the hell had taken it because press hadn’t been allowed in. 

It was a series of photos and the article asked the question ‘is soccer star Type gay and is Tharn of LBC his boyfriend?’ Tharn ignored the way his heart leapt in his throat at the question, wishing he could respond with a resounding ‘yes’.

It wasn’t that Tharn cared if people knew he was gay. He didn’t exactly hide it, but neither did he air it out in public and to his fans. People tended to ship him with Lhong (which was strange, certainly, since they were just friends and Tharn saw him as a brother, nothing more, nothing less), but it was all just fantasy. Popular BL movement or not, it was still a country in Asia and he was still a celebrity. Being out wasn’t an easy choice to make while in normal circumstances, let alone being in the spotlight.

But he could deal with it. He was worried more about Type. 

Tharn’s world was one of music and showbiz and playing into fantasy of their huge female fanbase. Type’s world was of sports, a game stuck in reality and mainly catering to men. Their worlds were incredibly different and, as such, Tharn also knew the reception among their respective worlds would be just as incredibly different.

“What the hell were you thinking, Tharn?” Lhong asked, looking still flabbergasted and Tharn looked up from his phone, unsure really how to reply to such a question and so he didn’t. His friend closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, his long earring dangling by his chin. “You need to fix this before it gets any bigger.”

“How am I supposed to fix this when there’s pictures?” Tharn questioned seriously, because he truly didn’t know.

Lhong looked at a loss himself as to what to tell him. “I don’t know but P’San has probably been trying to contact you since the article dropped this morning, but your phone was turned off.” Lhong gave him a pointed look. P’San was their manager and Tharn’s long time family friend, as well as more than that, but Tharn tried not to think about that part of their history. 

Almost as if San had been there in the room and heard them talking about him, Tharn’s phone started ringing. He stared down at his manager’s name and took in a deep breath and then answered the call, holding his head in his hands. “Don’t yell--I just saw the article.”

“Do you have any idea how big of a mess you’re in right now, Tharn?” San’s voice was strict over the call and Tharn groaned, rubbing his fingers through his hair and pulling at the strands just a little. It reminded him of how Type--no, he couldn’t think about that now. 

“How am I supposed to fix it?” 

“Well, first, that soccer player’s manager is demanding a meeting with you and I’ve already accepted. We’re meeting tomorrow so you better figure out something and quick.” Tharn glanced at Lhong who appeared to be trying to pretend not to be interested in what was being said in the call but Tharn could tell he was. He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “People are going to be asking questions, about you, about him, about the both of you and we need to figure out what it is that you want to say, if you want to deny it, confirm it, want to say it was some stupid drunken new years kiss that meant nothing. Personally, I think the last one is the safest bet.”

“You would think that.” Tharn said without thinking and there was a thick silence on the other end of the call for a moment. “Sorry.” He apologized lightly and San sighed.

“You know how much I care about you, Tharn. My job is to do whatever is best for you, but if this guy says something that can harm you in any way--look, you know how the sports world is. It’s homophobic and cruel in a different way than our world. If he claims you sexually assaulted him, people will probably believe it.”

“I didn’t--” Tharn argued, not for a moment believing that Type would be the sort of person to do that, but, then again, Tharn didn’t really know Type all that well. For all that he could tell, Type could be the sort of person to say something like that, if it meant saving his own skin and his own career if this thing got bad. And really, could Tharn blame him for that?

“I know you didn’t--but that doesn’t mean he can’t say it and maybe he wouldn’t want to. Maybe his manager would advise him to say something like that. Either way we are meeting tomorrow so meet me outside of your place at ten am and I’ll be picking you up. Please, wear sunglasses. Something. You stand out, but at least try to be discreet.” San implored and Tharn nodded before promising that he would.

They then hung up and Tharn was left staring at his phone, Lhong swaying curiously where he sat next to him.

“So…” Lhong hummed and Tharn knew he wanted to know what happened. He didn’t really feel like talking about it, but answered the unspoken question anyway.

“Having a meeting with P’San and Type and Type’s manager tomorrow.” 

“Type, huh?” Lhong leaned in, a smile on his face. “You on a first name basis?”

Tharn looked at him and then gave a careful grin before groaning, rubbing at his face. “Fuck, Lhong… what am I going to do?” 

“Well,” Lhong slowly placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it and Tharn felt automatically comforted as he looked up and over at his best friend. “Whatever it is that you decide to do or say… you know you have me, right?” His voice was soft and Tharn felt oddly touched as he looked back up at his friend.

He smiled in return and lifted his own hand to place over Lhong’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I appreciate that.” Lhong continued to smile at him for a moment and then looked as if he were going to say something before another voice interrupted him.

“What about me, don’t I get a say?” Tharn could feel the headache forming in his head as he lifted his head to look up at Tum, their guitarist. Tum had his arms crossed, standing in the doorway with a serious look on his face. Tharn could still remember when they’d been on good terms, but somewhere along the way of being in the same band, their relationship began to disintegrate. It was amazing they had yet to let it affect their business relationship as they had their friendship. 

“And what’s your say, Tum?” Tharn asked, sitting up and accidentally knocking Lhong’s hand off of his shoulders.

“Hey guys, let’s not fight--”

“Deny it.” Tum interrupted Lhong. “Say it was nothing more than a stupid New Years kiss and that there’s nothing between you too. Because I swear to god if your fuck up from you thinking with your big head, since there’s only a small brain upstairs, in any way effects the rest of us, Tharn--”

Tharn stood up and this was followed by Lhong standing between the two of them, his eyes wide as he held out his hands. 

“We’re in the same band remember, guys? Huh, guys? No fighting, seriously--”

“I’ll handle it.” Tharn said firmly, not moving a step closer because, unlike Tum, he honestly did not want to get into a fight, but he also wasn’t going to let Tum stand there and insult him in this way when this really shouldn’t be as big a deal as people were making it out to be. “And it won’t affect you. Any negative impact will solely be my responsibility, okay?”

Tum stared at him, his eyes searching over his face, probably for any sign of deceit or hint that Tharn was just saying this to get him off of his bag. 

“Good.” Tum said finally, dropping his arms down to his side. “You better.” He then turned and walked away, leaving the room with a chilling silence before Lhong broke it by turning to him.

“You two used to be good friends.” Lhong stated the already very obvious fact to Tharn who only sighed and sat back down at his seat behind the drums. 

Tharn stared at them, feeling a sinking feeling in his chest that maybe yeah, he had screwed up and whatever happened next was going to affect him, affect his group, for the rest of their lives.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: 
> 
> This is a very special double update!! So please make sure to read the special chapter 5.5 after this one!!

An awkward silence filled the meeting room. Tharn couldn’t stop looking across the table at Type, who seemed to be doing everything in his power in order to avoid meeting his glances. Tharn just wanted to make sure that he was okay, see how he was feeling, how he was handling it. He seemed a little pale and maybe that was all of the answer that Tharn needed, but he still wanted to ask, still wanted to question.

He glanced sideways where P’San was sitting and then at the man that sat next to Type. It perhaps wasn’t the best time to ask, certainly. Maybe he would be able to question him at the end of their meeting, if it were to ever get started, that is. 

Because, so far, no one has said a thing. Maybe none of them really knew where to start with this. One thing was for sure, Tharn definitely wasn’t going to start the conversation and he was fairly sure that Type wasn’t going to start it either. It wasn’t really either of their manager’s business--except wasn’t it? At least kind of? This wasn’t something that just affects the two of them after all. Not with their status, not with the fact that Tharn had his band and Type had his soccer team. 

This affected a whole slew of people.

Tharn couldn’t help but feel that he really had fucked up when he decided to approach Type. But he had been dreaming about it for so long, what he’d finally do, what’d he’d finally say if he were given the chance to talk to him. It was ridiculous, crushing on someone that you didn’t even know, but that was Tharn’s reality, had been for a few months.

Maybe Tharn fell into love a bit too easily. Not that he was in love with Type, he didn’t even know Type, but he’d like to get to know him. 

He looked at Type again, at the almost green tinge that took over his pale face and felt himself deflate. He’d really gone and messed up his chance, hadn’t he?

“Okay,” It was P’San who began, to Tharn’s non-surprise. “First, I just want to make sure that we clear a few things up, that whatever happened on New Years, that kiss was consensual and that your client isn’t going to suddenly get a lawyer to sue Tharn for sexual harassment or anything.”

Tharn watched as Type stiffened and his manager, Champ (if Tharn remembered correctly), looked at him. “No,” Champ said slowly, as if waiting to see if Type would interrupt. He didn’t. “No, we’re pretty clear on that. It was consensual, Type has already let me know that much and we’re not so worried about that as to the… questions that we’re sure are going to come our way about Type and Tharn’s relationship?” It was asked as a question, as if the man was unsure of what to even call a relationship that was non-existent outside of a one night stand.

“Just… we’ll say that it was a drunken kiss at a party and it meant nothing.” Tharn says suddenly, but instead of talking to either of the managers, he’s staring directly across at Type who gives him a furtive glance before going back to avoiding eye contact altogether. “I mean, that’s what it was. We had both been drinking and then the count down and I thought, hey, I really want to kiss someone. Type was there so I kissed him. I really don’t see why it’s that big of a deal.” Tharn tried to make it sound as if it weren’t the big deal they all knew it was and he leaned back in his chair.

The statement seemed to relax Type just a little bit, but he still stayed quiet. Tharn wished he would say something, even if only to hear his voice again. He didn’t really get why, but there was something about Type’s voice that he enjoyed. There was a bratty, childish quality to the way he spoke, and it amused Tharn to no end. 

Type’s manager leaned in close to him, saying something and when Type nodded, he pulled back. 

“That’s fine,” Champ answered for Type, leaning on the table with a sigh. “Frankly, I don’t care what it was, but the world that Type is in and the world that you’re in are very different worlds.” Tharn already knew this. He looked over to see Type staring at his nails, pretending as if he weren’t listening. “Sports and a scandal like this doesn’t really go in hand. I’m sure you two will be able to handle your end and I just want to thank you for meeting with us so we could get the story straight, for lack of a better word.” Champ almost grinned before catching himself and clearing his throat, giving Type a quick glance who was now scowling over at him.

Tharn couldn’t help but to think about how cute that scowl was. 

“I’m not ashamed of it.” Tharn said suddenly and all eyes, including Type’s (and his gaze made Tharn’s heart leap into his throat), turned to him. “I probably had the most fun the other night. More fun than I had in awhile.”

Type’s gaze almost softened before the man straightened up his back, pressing his hands down on the table in front of him and spoke for the first time since he’d entered the room. “I was just drunk. It definitely didn’t mean anything.” There was a firmness to his voice and maybe Tharn would let it get to him normally, but there was something behind the words that Tharn could sense. He could sense that Type was more trying to convince himself than him, and that told Tharn all he needed to know. It told Tharn that he didn’t mean it.

He looked at him curiously.

“Okay, so I guess this was easily settled.” P’San nodded and took in a breath, turning in his chair to look at Tharn. “We should get out of here and go set up a statement.”

Tharn looked at Type for another moment before nodding and standing and the other two did the same. They exchanged handshakes, Type giving Tharn one while managing to not look up from somewhere around Tharn’s shoulder the entire time. 

“No offense, but hopefully we won’t be seeing each other again any time soon.” Champ smiled kindly. It was hard to not take offense to it, but Tharn supposed he got the point. 

With a hand on Type’s shoulder, the man began to lead his client out of the room.

“Wait, can I speak with you, Type? Privately?” Tharn said quickly. Champ and Type paused in the doorway. Champ looked between Type and then at Tharn, as if asking what Type wanted to do.

The man, stiff as ever, let out a sigh and then turned, finally looking into his eyes for the first time, and gave a nod. “Fine. I guess--I owe that to you.”

“Well,” San said after a moment and then pressed his own hand into Tharn’s shoulder, giving him a look. “We’ll be right outside.”

Tharn nodded, not doubting that for a moment and he and Champ both left the room, closing the door behind him.

Silence. That was what filled the room, neither of them speaking, Tharn not really sure what he wanted to say, even though he had been the one to ask to have this conversation. He just didn’t want to leave things like this. It didn’t seem fair that their private moment had been leaked all over the internet for the entire world to see like that, and now ruined any possibility that he could maybe have something with Type, even if that something was only to be friends.

Type was staring at him and then he huffed, seeming annoyed and it was then that Tharn realized he’d been standing there just staring at him for almost a minute without saying something, and he felt a little flustered about it. Of course Type was impatient when the person who had asked to have a conversation with him wasn’t even speaking. “So? You going to say something?” Type’s voice was harder than it had been back at the club, a little bit tougher, a bit ruder, but Tharn found he didn’t mind it too much. On the contrary, even this was cute.

Type was cute. Was Tharn really already so whipped for this stranger that he had only ever seen on television among many other men kicking a ball around a field?

Tharn took a few steps forward, stopping when he saw Type take a few steps back to match. He gave an almost forced laugh and smile and held his arms out, almost as if proving he didn’t have a weapon or something. He wasn’t going to hurt Type. 

“I’m sorry.” He said gently, pushing his hands down into the pockets of his jeans, at a loss for what to do with them otherwise. “I’m sorry that I kissed you in a place so full of people like that. I really just--I got lost in the moment, you know?” 

The other man eyed him for a moment and then, seeming to relax, scratched at the back of his neck and peered down at his shoes. “I got lost… too.” Type admitted and maybe that statement made Tharn a little bit happier than it should. “I enjoyed that night.”

Tharn smiled. A real, beaming smile, one full of hope and he wanted to do nothing more than to thrust his phone at Type’s chest and ask for his number, but he reigned himself in, held himself back. Maybe he could get it some time, but it wouldn’t be now, probably not even soon. 

“I’m glad you didn’t hate it. You kinda disappeared, so I didn’t even get to ask if you were okay.” 

A red flush found its way to Type’s cheeks, the man’s eyes widening almost comically. They looked like a deer’s eyes and Tharn didn’t think he had ever seen anything more precious. “I-I’m fine.” Type said quickly, looking as if he wanted to run away but there was nowhere to go. “It was--I mean, I was… sore, but I’m, was, fine.” 

His words were a jumbled mess and Tharn couldn’t help but grin, leaning forward just a little bit. “Good, I make it a duty to make sure my partners enjoy themselves thoroughly.” He flirted, taking pleasure in the way that Type stammered something that didn’t even sound like actual words out. He then got serious, leaning back to stand up straight again. “You know, under different circumstances, I’d ask for your number.”

Type fell silent, looking as if he were pondering something. “Under different circumstances, maybe I would’ve given it to you.”

Tharn gave a sort of sad smile and then shrugged. It was a bittersweet reply, but he appreciated it all the same. “That’s all I can ask for.” The other nodded and the two of them fell silent, just looking at each other for the moment.

“I should--” Type pointed at the door and Tharn nodded, extending out his hand to point at the door, letting the other know he was free to go whenever he wanted. “I’ll… maybe I’ll see you around.” Type told him but he knew that was nothing more than pleasantries.

There was no reason to see each other around again.

Type turned and Tharn just stood there, watching him walk out of the door.


	6. Special Chapter 5.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: 
> 
> This is a double update! If you haven't read chapter 5, please read that one first!!

_lbcgirl99_  
_1:11pm_  
did u see those pics??  
how cute are they together right??

 _tharn♡ lhong_  
_1:12pm_  
I can’t believe p’tharn would cheat on p’lhong like this!!!  
‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

 _lbcgirl99_  
_1:14pm_  
stop being so delusional

 _boykirigun_  
_1:16pm_  
she’s never going to stop deluding!  
but omg they’re so cute??  
p’tharn x p’type…  
i ship it!

[+237 -59] is it just me or do they look hot together?  
^[+78 -6] it’s not just u (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ  
^[+37 -89] you are both so gross

[+198 -70] c-c-can P’s post some more pics maybe?

[+102 -17] they’re really cute but i doubt its real.  
^[+21 -5] i doubt its even them…

[+87 -3] i hope they fall in love

**2.33pm** you can’t be serious right? Is type a f*g?  
**2.42pm** i dunno how i feel about a gay guy being on our major soccer team…  
**3.01pm** you guys are kidding right? What does it matter if he’s gay or not gay? He’s a good player! Get with the times.  
**3.27pm** they’re just homophobic bigots who will go nowhere in life.  
**4.10pm** and you’re probably just a pervert little girl drooling over the thought of 2 guys fucking  
**4.13pm** wtf harsh dude

-

 **Love Transcending Worlds. Is drummer Tharn of LBC dating Type of Bangkok United’s pro soccer team?  
**  
This is the question we pose here today. The two were seen kissing at an all exclusive celeb bash held at a club in downtown Bangkok. Sources say, they were previously chit-chatting away at the bar before they headed towards the dance floor to work up a sweat. Then the clock struck midnight on New Years day and, as in tradition, the two shared a kiss.  
  
But it wasn’t the quick kiss that one would normally expect for two complete strangers to share during the New Years tradition, but one full of passion as seen clearly in the pictures. (edited: a new source has provided a video clip. please scroll down to view)

-

Tharn couldn’t help but scroll through the comments on different articles, all about the same thing. The pictures of him and Type. There were different sorts of responses depending on where the article was placed. There were many bad comments, one that left him feeling sad and hoping that Type didn’t see them. But there were many more good ones. Comments supporting them, if they were truly together, or hoping to see them make it official and become actual boyfriends and announce their loving relationship to the world.

Those made Tharn smile. He kind of wished the same.

“Are you ready?” he looked up at Lhong who was giving him a slight smile and Tharn put his phone on mute and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans. They had an interview for the upcoming release of their newest album. Tharn had just been killing time. Perhaps unwisely.

He gave a small nod and a forced smile. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He said as much and then pressed his hand against Lhong’s arm and followed his best friend towards the area they would be interviewed. It was a live interview and they couldn’t afford a mess-up, so Tharn took a few deep breaths to prepare himself before the five members of LBC took the stage, smiling and giving small bows to their audience of fans who cheered for them as they took their spots.

He noticed a few girls in the front with fan made t-shirts on and held back the slight grimace. They were ship shirts--him and Lhong. He had never really understood why people shipped them so much, and he normally didn’t mind. It was all fun, but whenever he saw those shirts or things like it, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit uncomfortable.

Tharn hid that and smiled anyway, waving towards their fans as the interview started.

It was fairly run of the mill. They talked about the upcoming album, what fans could expect, and gave a few hints towards some future events and concert dates which got the audience buzzing. They teased each other, especially he and Tum, hiding their disdain for one another behind the careful guise of friendship that they carried on stage.

It was towards the end of the interview where things went a little awry.

“Okay, so we have just one more question.” The interviewer smiled, her eyes sparkling as she leaned forward, staring straight at him. Tharn wondered why he suddenly felt nervous. “In the last week, there’ve been pictures circulating online of you and soccer star Type. Care to speak on that?”

The audience got silent, some of the girls buzzing in excitement (although he noted the two TharnLhong shippers in the front look disgruntled). Lhong himself was frozen next to him. He could feel it in the way Lhong suddenly stiffened up and turned his head to look at him. Tharn couldn’t see behind him, but he was fairly certain that Tum and the other two members of LBC were also staring straight at him, curious as to what he was going to say.

“Well,” He started slowly, seeing off stage to where P’San was sliding his hand over his throat, trying to tell him to not answer it, to cut it off, but Tharn ignored it and instead looked over at the interviewer. “You know, it was New Years. We were drinking and I saw him sitting at the bar so I asked him if he wanted to dance. It was just fun. It was just getting caught up in the moment of the clock striking midnight.”

“So you asked him?” Replied the sly reporter and Tharn hesitated, slowly bringing the mic back up to his mouth, but only giving a nod instead of a verbal answer. “So he caught your eye? Is there something there? Some sort of feelings?”

The audience now was completely silent, excited to hear what Tharn was going to say.

Tharn looked back over to P’San who was furiously writing something on a paper and then held it up. SHUT IT DOWN!

He took in a breath and smiled instead, looking at the interviewer. “I thought he was cute.”

The audience gasped, the silence now breaking and he heard a sharp intake of breath from right next to him as well as a nudge to his back from whom he guessed was Tum.

“Cute? So are you two dating? Is the TharnType ship actually sailing.”

“Unfortunately not,” Tharn said softly, listening to the sad ‘awwws’ that filled the room. “However…” he took in a breath, wondering if he was going to regret this and then stared straight at the camera. “I do have something I want to say. Type,” he implored, pretending as if the camera was him. “Will you go on a date with me?”


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Tags are now updated with future warnings, please take a look at them~ more will probably be added as I continue to write. It's gonna get serious guys, but what else do you expect from TharnType?
> 
> Also because I wrote 3 chapters last night and I'm now like... 14 chapters ahead, I'm going to go ahead and do another DOUBLE UPDATE so please make sure to check out chapter 7 after this!! I will accept payment in the form of a comment down below. ;)
> 
> Also idk, I'm thinking of making a twitter or smth PURELY to post teasers and my progress on this fic (perhaps as well as other projects) because it's... it's going to be huge. Based on everything I have in mind and the fact that it's now sitting at 45k words as of today and the first act isn't even done yet, I won't be surprised if it gets to 100k+ words (I put 40 chapters as a placeholder but imo I think it'll be more than that). Would you guys be interested in smth like that? Let me know! And if you read all of this, props to you! I won't keep you any longer! Enjoy chapters 6 & 7!

Type truly couldn’t hide enough. He wore a hat, something that he so rarely wore, and tugged it down low over his eyes which were covered by sunglasses, as if this would hide him from the rest of the world. So far it was kind of working, at least nobody had come up to him asking him details about his affair with Tharn. He’d learned his lesson after the first couple of times going out without a disguise.

Truthfully, he was really tempted to duck into a wig shop and buy a wig, just to better hide. Could be fun, but he was pretty sure Techno would make fun of him if he saw him wearing a wig beneath his hat, complete with sunglasses and Type wouldn’t really be able to blame him for that. 

His initial plan was to release his statement (which he had done) and then to let it all die out. It would eventually, so long as there was no more contact between him and Tharn and that was perfectly okay with Type. He kinda wanted to forget the night had ever even happened. Chalk it up to some sort of horrid nightmare that had only happened in a dream, or maybe something he read in a novel, or saw on a tv drama. That would be the best option. He was determined for it to be this way.

And then Tharn had to go open his big fat fucking mouth and ask him on a date. Not only had he asked him on a date (as if Type would say yes to that), he had done it on live fucking television. Even if (and this was a big if) there had been a small chance of Type saying yes to a date, that would’ve evaporated with the fact that Tharn was literally putting their--his, Type’s--business out to air to the whole world.

And now everywhere he was mentioned was both a gigantic mess and mix of BL fangirls and homophobic soccer fans and, honestly, Type wasn’t sure which was worse. One side wanted nothing more than for him to release a sex tape with the drummer of LBC and the other side wanted to string him up for dare tainting their beloved soccer team with a sin such as homosexuality.

Type wanted to scream. He wanted to yell and kick and punch something. Preferably Tharn. That would be best case scenario. The only problem with that was that Type planned to completely ignore the guy. Forever. No more contact. No more nothing. This also had to fade away into nothing, right? 

It was almost as if he were trying to convince himself. Much good it did him, he thought, scowling at a poster of LBC in a window. If he weren’t trying to hide so that nobody would notice him, he would tear that damn poster out of the window and rip it to shreds. Maybe it would help his anger, at least a little.

But he was running late as it was, what in between dodging anyone who looked even remotely like someone who could recognize him. Maybe he was a little paranoid. Maybe nobody would recognize him. Maybe nobody even really truly cared, but he couldn’t exactly take that chance. So ducking into alleys and peeking around corners was his best option.

If it weren’t so serious, it’d be funny. He felt like he was in some sort of spy movie.

Type was ten minutes late by the time he got to the restaurant. He told the host that he was meeting someone and was swiftly pointed in the direction of the table that Techno had already been seated at. He lowered himself into the seat, removing his sunglasses with a glare at Techno, daring him to say a word. 

A word Techno did look as if he wanted to say, or laugh. There was a sort of grimace on his face that Type knew meant he was trying very hard to hold back his amusement. He got his foot ready to kick, just in case he needed it.

“Don’t you think you’re going a little bit overboard, Ai’Type?” Techno asked, taking a long sip of his water and Type flinched.

“Don’t say my name.” He hissed, jerking his leg forward beneath the table to kick Techno just a little bit. A warning, really.

Techno groaned and gave a pained laugh, reaching down to rub at the front of his calf. “Fine--okay, no names. I don’t need to be permanently injured and have rumors about you being a violent, abusive best friend popping up next.”

Type reached across the table to smack the side of Techno’s head, but his friend ducked before he could make contact. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a huff as Techno laughed both a little nervously, but also a little too amused. 

“Look, no one really cares.” Techno tried to comfort. Type wasn’t sure whether or not he bought that Techno even bought what he was saying. “Soon, something else is going to happen. Some pop singer will get into a scandal, or some drama in the BL community is going to happen and the fangirls will move on, dude. Just don’t let it get to you.”

“Easy for you to say.” Type grumbled out, leaning against his arms which he had placed on the table in front of him. “You’re not the one in a fag scandal with a member of Thailand’s most popular rockband.” Techno grimaced and Type knew it was because of his choice as words. He felt a little bad himself but didn’t try to take it back or apologize for it. 

“No…” Techno said slowly. “But you also aren’t the one whose most popular fansite literally befriended your little brother in order to get closer to you.” His friend shuddered and leaned back into the booth. “Do you know how many times I’ve visited my brother at his apartment and the moment I walked in the door that guy is there smiling at me and looking as if he wants to eat me, Type? Do you know how many times? At least seven. I’ve kept track.” He grumbled and Type wanted to both laugh and comfort him. It was a little weird, but, as far as Type knew, the guy hadn’t really done anything except be--well, weird.

“Maybe you should talk to Technic about that.” Technic was Techno’s brother.

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” No sighed, laying his head on the table, looking as if he was giving up on life right then and there. “He just says what’s the harm in giving the guy some details here and there when he’s getting paid for it.” He lifted his head up again, narrowing his eyes. “I think my brother is selling me. Literally.”

Type tried not to grin and shrug. It was nice talking about someone else’s issues, he had to admit. It almost helped him forget all about his own.

Then a body dropped down next to him and Type glanced up, seeing Champ, his manager and long time friend, sitting beside him. He looked both tired, but excited, for some reason. “What’re you doing here?” He questioned, but before he could get an answer, a waitress came over to finally take their order, apologizing for the long wait.

After they all ordered, he asked again.

“I texted and asked No if he knew where you were and he said you were meeting him here.” Champ gave him a look. “I’d have asked you, but you seem to be avoiding me the last couple of days.” Type avoided eye contact at that. It was true, he had been avoiding him, not wanting to have to deal with talking about what he should say in response to Tharn’s very public question. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got something to talk about. I’d prefer to do it in private, unless you care if Techno stays?”

No looked at him eagerly and Type gave a small shrug, pulling his water close to sip from it. He really didn’t care, it wasn’t as if there was anything about Type that No didn’t know at this point. He probably knew more about him than even Kom did. 

“So, you got an offer.” 

Type turned his head and raised his brows in curiosity. “An offer?” He glanced across at No to see if he had any idea of what Champ was talking about but No looked just as curious so he turned back to the other man. “What kind of an offer.”

“A sponsorship offer.” Type straightened his back up. Sponsorships was how people made most of their money when it came to this world, and a good sponsorship was like a needle in a haystack. If it was a good offer, there would be no way he could turn it down. “It’s a perfume and cologne company.” 

“That’s an interesting one…” Type said a little unsurely, wondering what that had to do with sports at all. He had been expecting some sort of drink or maybe clothes, but perfume and cologne?

Champ gave a slow nod and cleared his throat. “They’re offering a 25k pre-offer for a full set of photoshoots and commercials and magazine spreads with 50k on top of that after it’s all over… and the chance for another 25k bonus.”

Type could feel his eyes bug out. He had heard of expensive sponsorships but that was a lot of money for a perfume sponsor. “100k?” He asked, just to make sure that he had actually heard that correctly and Champ gave another slow nod. “This almost sounds too good to be true.”

“Well, there is a catch.” Type’s eyes narrowed at Champ’s hesitation. “They want you, yes, but… they only want you if you agree to sponsor it with Tharn Kirigun. As a couple.”

Silence fell over the table except for the sound of Techno choking on something. Type felt a kind of coldness wash over him. There was absolutely no way he could accept this. To work with Tharn? As a couple? For a perfume sponsorship? Not even for that amount of money--except it was a lot of money and that wasn’t something he could so easily turn down just because he was scared to do a few photoshoots and commercials with the other man. 

Wouldn’t that be kind of ridiculous? To turn something like this down just because he was scared of what people might say or think? The team hadn’t contacted him to drop him just because he was seen kissing a guy, and he doubted they’d do it just because he agreed to a sponsorship like this.

Type groaned and closed his eyes with a sigh. It was a lot to think about and not something he’d really be able to make up his mind about right off the bat. He didn’t even know where to start with weighing the pros and cons of it all. 

“Has Tharn said anything about it?” He asked instead, not opening his eyes because he didn’t want to see the looks on Champ’s or No’s faces when they saw that he was actually, maybe, sorta considering taking this offer. 

“I heard from P’San--he’s agreed to take it if you agree to it as well, since that’s the deal.”

Of course Tharn had decided to take the offer so easily. He had nothing to lose. He was already used to being shipped with guys, to have rumors floating around that he was fucking his bandmates, that he was gay. There was no negative impact for him. 

But Type… he had so much to lose from this. He was still too scared to face his teammates, frightened because of what they might say or do. Techno didn’t care, but Techno had always been a good friend. He didn’t show it often, but he appreciated Techno’s lack of judgement, his support, the way the news had broken that he’d been seen kissing a guy and the first thing Techno did when he saw him was lay a hand on his shoulder and tell him that no matter what, he was still his best friend.

Type had been touched. But he knew that not everyone was like that.

“I need to think about it.” He said finally, opening his eyes but still just staring at the table before him. “And I need more details about what it all… includes so that I can make a decision.” Type let out a breath and glanced over at Champ. “Get me that information and I’ll get back to them in a few days.”

Champ smiled lightly and gave him a little nudge. He’d also always been a good friend to Type too. Type was realizing just how many good friends he had around him and felt comforted. 

“I’ll get you that information.” Champ promised with a firm nod, pulling out his phone to type something into it. “For now, let’s just relax and eat some food.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, talking in a calming breath. This was something he would worry about later, once he got all the details. 

For a moment, he thought about Tharn and wondered what his reaction to all of this was. Had that question really been serious or had he been playing around for the cameras? Showbiz was different than the sports world in ways, but they all put on a front before the cameras. 

He felt an uneasy sort of stirring in his stomach and decided to ignore it. It didn’t matter if Tharn had been serious or not, because Type’s answer was no, and it was going to stay no.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT
> 
> This is a DOUBLE UPDATE! If you haven't read chapter 6 please make sure to read that first!

Type couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. It was a nervous habit he had apparently picked up somewhere within the last couple of weeks. He could feel Tharn’s gaze on him, burning a hole into the side of his face. He wished Tharn would look away. It wasn’t as if they weren’t sitting a mere three feet from each other, their managers on either side of them, as they waited for the person from Niripat Cologne and the company’s lawyer to make their way into the room.

He was actually doing this. Over and over, Type kept repeating this to himself. He was actually doing this. A part of him couldn’t believe it, even though he had been the one to make this choice. What had he been thinking? Probably about the great deal of money this would make him, and it’d be easy. All he would have to do was do a few photoshoots and commercials and act like Tharn’s boyfriend during the promotional period.

Right. There was that. Act like Tharn’s boyfriend.

He had said no the moment he had heard that. He’d told Champ to tell them to shove the offer up their ass, but no thanks. He wasn’t doing that. There was no way he was going to do something like that. He’d have to be stupid to agree to that.

But Champ had gotten him to calm down. Told him to think it over. Just think of it like acting (Type pointed out that he wasn’t an actor, he was a soccer player). But, the more Type thought about it, the more he could see Champ’s point. It wouldn’t be real. He’d know it’s not real, Tharn would know it’s not real, their managers would know it’s not real, and the perfume company would know it’s not real. Other people would think it is and they’d get paid for making people believe it, making people want to buy this perfume. He wasn’t really sure how he and Tharn dating would get people to buy perfume, but he supposed the fangirls were nuts and they’d probably buy just about anything so long as it included two hot guys shirtless.

And well, he had seen Tharn shirtless, and he could agree that it was pretty hot.

Type hated himself for even thinking about that, but he had to admit it, even if it was just to himself. That night had been amazing. Tharn had been amazing and Type had felt so good, yet so ashamed of feeling so good, that it was a wonder he hadn’t been thinking of that night every night for the last two weeks.

Maybe that was because of the entire mess that surrounded it afterwards. A part of him even thought that, maybe, if those pictures hadn’t been released, then maybe he would’ve even tried to contact Tharn somehow, befriend him at least. Tharn had been relaxing to be around, in a strange way.

That wasn’t the case anymore though. Type could feel a headache forming just from ignoring Tharn’s stare.

Thankfully, though, the two people they were waiting for entered the room. The woman was smiling so brightly that Type thought it must be fake, because there was no way that someone could actually be so happy that their face looked as if it was literally going to tear in half from smiling so widely. 

They exchanged greetings and the woman and the lawyer beside her sat down across the table from them and Type pumped himself up, or at least tried. He was ready to hear it, and ready to sign the papers. He was doing this. For the money. That was it. That was the only reason he was doing this. It was just too difficult to turn down. 

“We want to do a full launch campaign for our newest scent. And of course we have samples here for both of you.” The woman stated, reaching into a bag that she had brought with her and pulling out two boxes, sliding them both over to Tharn and Type respectively. 

Type listened as she spoke, turning the box over in his hands. He raised his brows at the velvet feeling of it, not having expected that at all. It was in the form of a square, or perhaps a little more rectangular, the length longer than the width. Black velvet lined all corners, except for the edges where a dark, royal blue sparkled beneath the light of the room. In a gold script across the front of the box read the words Consort by Niripat. It was certainly a beautiful, well-made box. He opened it and pulled out a stained glass in the same color as the royal blue from the box. It was twisted into the shape of an hourglass, the top a mirrored gray. Type had to admit, he was pretty impressed by the design. 

He sprayed a bit of it and was surrounded by a gentle smell that wafts easily through his nostrils. It was strong, but not overpowering. Type actually rather liked it. He placed it back in the box and pushed it to the side. 

“The first thing we want to do is to run full page ads in all of the major magazines so we want to do a large scale photoshoot catering to both our female clientel as well as the LGBTQ community.” She continued on after watching their reaction to the perfume itself. “So it’ll be along the lines of two lovers basking in each other.” Type cleared his throat, feeling a flush begin to travel up the back of his neck.

He glanced to Tharn just as Tharn looked his way, sending a smile in his direction. Type quickly turned his head back down to the perfume box in front of him, ignoring the rapid yet nervous beating of his heart in his chest. 

“Our next goal would to do a commercial. But--more than this--we’d really love for the both of you to post to your IGs, twitters, whatever form of social media that you prefer and just… have the box in the background, but it’s best if you’re together when it’s there. So like… couple vlogs.” She stated, smiling as if this all made sense.

Type supposed he could see the appeal to it all, but to pretend to be a couple with another guy, and Tharn at that? He might die of embarrassment. But he had already made up his mind. He was going to do this. For the money. Acting. He could do that. Sure. No problem. How hard could it be?

She continued on for awhile, explaining things in detail, answering questions that Tharn or one of the managers poised. Type didn’t say anything. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t have questions, he wasn’t curious, he just wanted to get this over with. 

And finally came time to sign the contracts that they had already been faxed and Type had looked over with both Champ as well as his own lawyer. He bit his lip and clicked the pen a few times. Type glanced over at Tharn who easily signed the contract and then turned to look back at the paper. There was no going back now.

He leaned forward and quickly signed his name, pushing it back towards the company’s lawyer before he could change his mind. 

The lawyer looked it over and nodded to the woman whose name Type had never caught, granted, he hadn’t really been paying all that much attention anyway. “Seems like everything is in order!” She happily exclaimed, jumping up to shake both of their hands. “We’ll be in contact within the next few days to set up a schedule for the photoshoot but we’ll be letting the two of you handle however you prefer to do your own social media stuff. You know, make it look more natural.”

“Because this is all so natural.” Type couldn’t help but to say before feeling a harsh nudge against his back from Champ. He also heard a small laugh from his right and looked over at Tharn who appeared to be trying to hold back a grin.

The appreciation of his joke made Type want to smile.

He didn’t. 

The woman bid them good day and slowly they all headed out of the room, but--before he could leave fully--he felt a hand on his sleeve and jerked to a slight stop, turning his head to look at a somewhat sheepish looking Tharn.

“Sorry--I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat. We can… talk about how we want to do this. And I can apologize for blurting something out like that on national television.” He tacked on the last bit quickly and Type gave a small sigh, looking him over.

He wanted to tell him no, pull his arm away, and go home. Instead he turned towards Champ. “I’m going to go get something to eat. I’ll call you later.” Champ gave a small nod and smile and made his way out as Tharn told his own manager to go on without him as well. 

Type then turned back to Tharn. There was a beat of silence and then, “I want noodles.” Type said without hesitation, a demanding tone to his voice. He wanted noodles and he was going to get noodles whether Tharn liked it or not. He didn’t expect the smile that he got in return.

“I can go for some noodles.” Tharn agreed and Type gave him a slightly suspicious look. He had agreed so easily that Type almost thought there had to be some sort of trick to this. Maybe Tharn had planned this entire thing to get close to him, to prey on him. The idea made him want to turn heel and run away, but he squared up his own bravery, telling himself how ridiculous that sounded, because it really was pretty damn ridiculous.

There was no way that was the case. Even that would be a bit too much for someone to plan, unless Tharn was some sort of evil genius and he didn’t really strike Type as the sort. 

“Good.” He said finally, nodding his head. Type then pulled his arm free from Tharn’s grasp that was still holding him in place and walked out from the building. The sun beat hot down upon him and Type let himself soak it up for a moment.

“I brought my car. We can drive. I know a good place.” Tharn told him and Type squinted his eyes against the sun before following the other man to where he had parked his car. Thankfully, they were in an area that wasn’t too busy and so no one stopped them to take their photos. Small blessings counted for some, Type supposed. 

Once inside the car and buckled up, Tharn turned the car on, the sound of LBC blasting through the car. Tharn quickly shot his hand forward, turning the sound down and Type just stared at him, both amused and a little flabbergasted. 

“You’re really listening to your own music in your car? You don’t like any other bands or something?” He questioned.

“LBC makes good music.” Tharn defends, now grinning, as if he hadn’t just been obviously embarrassed a moment ago. “And I do--I like The 1975. And others. Not just LBC. But your favorite is LBC, isn’t it? Even knowing Be Mine…”

Type rolled his eyes and decided not to deem that with a response and soon they were on the road, silence filling the air. He kind of wished Tharn would turn on music or something, even if it was LBC, but he didn’t and so Type was left to stare out the window with his own thoughts, wondering how he had gotten himself into this situation.

He should’ve never agreed to go do that damn New Years party with Techno. This was all Techno’s fault. He as going to kick him the next time he saw him.

Soon, they were pulling into the restaurant and Tharn parked the car. Type had been there once or twice and remembered that it was a fairly good place. At least he didn’t have to worry about bad food. 

“Let’s go in.” Tharn shot him a smile and stepped out of the car. Type watched him in silence for a moment, wondering why the fuck his heart had suddenly felt as if it were diving off the deep end and then shook his head, following him out and into the restaraunt, not at all prepared for his first ‘date’ with Tharn Kirigun.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some TharnType bonding <3 Happy reading!

Type tried to keep the silence as they ate, though it felt a little awkward. Every time he would look up and across the table, Tharn was looking at him with a smile that was a mix between both sly and shy. It made him feel uneasy and nervous and he quietly shoveled noodles into his mouth to keep his mouth busy so that any time Tharn wanted to say something, Type could just point at his mouth and shrug, using it as an excuse not to say anything back.

But, as he came to the end of his dish, the excuse was beginning to run a bit thin. They should really talk anyway, Type knew this. That was the whole point he had agreed to come with Tharn (well that, and he truly was hungry and craving noodles and Tharn had agreed to take care of the bill so who was Type to say no, really?). 

“I think,” Tharn began, taking a drink of his Sprite before clearing his throat to lean back into the booth. Type glanced down to see his bowl empty and quickened his own chewing. Maybe if he finished quickly, he could get out even faster. “I think that it’s probably the most realistic if we start with small things. We don’t want to suddenly be posting I love you’s with glitter and heart pictures all over instagram. That might raise people’s suspicions.”

Type almost wanted to let out a sigh of relief. He could actually agree to that. Maybe talking about this wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Simple photos. Like you’d post with friends.” Type licked over his lips and leaned down, pressing his straw in between them to sip his water. “Like selfies with each other… out to eat.” He messed with his phone. “Or maybe we can just start with our own selfies in the same place. Let fans put it together. Cause that’ll happen quickly with your fangirls, I’m sure.” 

Tharn nodded in agreement, smiling as he leaned forward and Type scooted backwards, pressing his back up against the seat to get even just a little bit further away from Tharn and his stupid smile. 

“Lots of my fans are already shipping us.” The drummer pulled out his own phone, scrolling through it and bringing something up. When Type took his phone, he saw a private chat group for LBC and wondered how the hell Tharn had managed to get an invite without revealing who he was. Lots of the messages were about the music, about the other members, but most recently, many of them were talking about him--him with Tharn. 

Type swallowed tightly, his eyes glancing awkwardly from the phone and backup to Tharn’s face, slowly pushing it back across the table. 

“Do you ever get used to that?” Type asked finally, gesturing to the phone that Tharn was sliding back into his pocket.

“Being shipped?” Tharn questioned and Type gave a quick nod. “It can still be weird. Especially since the most popular ship I have is with Lhong for some reason and--me and him, we’re best friends. We’ve been best friends since we were like fourteen. I’ve never had those sorts of feelings for him and I’m pretty sure it's the same for him. So seeing stuff like that about someone I think of as a brother can be weird. But you get used to it. I don’t mind being shipped with you though. You’re a good kisser.”

That stupid grin was back and Type was flushing, his face feeling incredibly warm and he was sure that if he were to look into a mirror or something reflective he’d be beat red all over. He didn’t appreciate that one bit.

He shot the other a small glare. “I’m not gay, you know. I don’t--go around sleeping with guys. I don’t make a habit of it. That was--it was a one time thing.” He hissed the last part as quietly as he could, hoping that no one would hear. 

“I didn’t say you were.” Tharn said carefully, looking as if he were thinking about someone. “So I’m just a special case?” he then asked, looking as if he were about to beam and Type shot it down by kicking him under the table. Tharn jerked, groaning as he leaned down to rub his leg.

Type smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not so tough as you pretend, huh?”

“You got a good kick.” Tharn stated between gritted teeth but he didn’t look angry. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head, sitting back up straight. “I guess that should be expected from someone who plays soccer for a living.”

“Mm, you think?” Type rolled his eyes.

“You’re like… a hyperactive puppy who only knows how to play rough and if it’s not rough, is it even playing at all?” 

“W-what sort of comparison?” Type sputtered, bowing his head a little as he got out his phone, trying to do anything to distract from this conversation. He brushed his hand through his hair and pulled up his camera. He leaned into the booth and, making sure that the background was at least somewhat in view in the photo, took a simple picture. 

Satisfied with it, he opened up IG and posted the picture with the simple comment, ‘out for lunch #hungry #noodles’. 

“Your turn.” He dropped his phone back onto the table, looking at Tharn who had been staring at him while he took the picture. Tharn wordlessly picked up his own phone and did the same. “I also followed you on IG so--you better follow me back.”

“I followed you already.” Tharn stated and Type blinked, glancing down. He hadn’t noticed. 

Finished with their simple pictures, Tharn pulled out his wallet and got his card out to pay for the food. “What are you up to next? Need a ride home? We can talk more about what we want to do.”

Honestly, all Type wanted to do was find a cab to take him home, but, not only would that cost money, it would be a bit rude to turn down Tharn’s offer. He had just paid for his lunch after all. So instead he nodded, said thank you, and followed Tharn back out to his car. 

After giving him the address, they started on their way. This time, Tharn turned on some music, but kept it turned down so that they could talk business. Type found it was easier if he just kept thinking of this as that. Business--well, really, that was what it was, wasn’t it?

“I think the best thing for us to do for at least the next couple of weeks is to hang out as often as we can and post some pictures in similar places, maybe within a few hours of each other. Talk about seeing the same movie, little things like that.” Tharn suggested, not taking his eyes off the road and Type only noticed this because he couldn’t stop glancing over at Tharn. 

“Mm,” he nodded, rubbing his fingers over his jeans and picking at a loose thread from his shirt. “That’s what happens a lot when celebrities start dating each other, I guess?” Talking as if they were actually dating made Type feel a bit queasy, but he pushed it back. This shouldn’t be a big deal. He’d already had sex with the guy, he could handle going out on a few dates with him for money.

Suddenly, Type felt a little bit like a prostitute.

He shook that thought out of his head as quickly as he could.

“Exactly,” Tharn agreed, his lips curving up at the corners just a little bit. “And then maybe we can make it official by posting a picture together. We can see what events are happening and make a public appearance at one. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and kiss you in public or anything.” Tharn added quickly when Type looked ready to protest at that. “At most, maybe hold your hand. We can just say we don’t like PDA. You don’t seem like the type to like PDA anyway. And, personally, if I have feelings for someone, I don’t want anyone else to see those parts of the guy I’m with anyway.”

Type slid down in the seat just a little, feeling suddenly exhausted. He hadn’t even done anything, but he felt as if he had been practicing on the field all day. He missed the field. He missed playing. He’d been so swamped with all of… this that he hadn’t really gotten to practice as much and he made a promise to himself that tomorrow he would head out and do just that. He needed to get back in it, needed to head back to the team. 

“So… you’re completely gay?” Type asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence and it caused Tharn to choke on a laugh. 

The other man looked at him from the corner of his eye, obviously holding back a grin and Type glared at him, as if daring him to say anything. “You mean as opposed to bisexual?” Type didn’t say anything at all. “Yeah, I’m completely gay.”

“What made you gay?” Type asked, trying to pretend he wasn’t as curious as he really was. He didn’t often talk to a lot of gay people and he kind of wondered if these… urges that Type had felt was something that he could have contracted from somewhere. Even though, realistically, he knew that wasn’t the case. He could hope, however. 

“Nothing made me gay. I was just born gay. Like a straight person was born straight.” Tharn explained, not sounding at all insulted to Type’s relief, because he really hadn’t meant to insult him. He was honestly just curious. “I kind of always sensed something was just a little bit different about me, but I wasn’t too worried about it. I figured it out when I was about fourteen or fifteen and I came out to my family once I graduated from high school. Lhong has known practically the entire time though. He was the first person I came out to and he was so supportive--I guess that’s why he’s my best friend.”

“I didn’t ask for your entire life story.” Type told him, rolling his eyes and trying to pretend as if he wasn’t at all interested. Maybe he was interested, just a little bit. He wasn’t going to let Tharn know that, however.

“Sorry,” Tharn grinned apologetically, turning down the road to Type’s apartment. 

“Whatever,” Type murmured, pursing his lips as he stared out the window, letting a silence fall over the two of them as Tharn continued to drive. It was only a couple of minutes later that they pulled up to a large apartment complex. It was fairly upper middle-class, simple, but Type didn’t need anything more than that. 

He took in a breath and turned to look at Tharn. “Thanks for the ride. Oh…” He pulled out his phone, hesitating for a moment before handing it over. “I guess I need your number--you know, for this thing.”

Tharn looked at the phone for a moment and then took it, typing in his contact information and then handed it over. Type took his phone back and called Tharn’s phone. He let it ring a couple of moments, the sound of a The 1975 song playing through the car, before he hung up the call. “There. Now you can save my number too.” 

Type reached down, going to unbuckle his seatbelt, but as he pushed the button inwards, the belt wouldn’t pop out. He narrowed his brows, glaring down at the offending safety regulation and pushed down harder.

“That thing gets stuck sometimes. Here, let me--” Tharn removed his own seatbelt and then leaned forward over the middle and Type froze as his face came mere centimeters away from his. He blinked, his eyes flickering across Tharn’s face so rapidly that Type almost felt as if his eyes were going to fall from his head. There was a strange fluttering in his chest. Definitely because he was nervous being so close to a gay man. Not because he’d been this close before. Not because he knew already what Tharn’s skin tasted like on his tongue. No. Not for those reasons. 

Tharn glanced upwards, his own eyes dark beneath just as dark lashes and he smiled, pressing his fingers down into the button of the seatbelt that Type still held so he could feel their fingers brush. Tharn tugged on the belt part and it came loose and Type shot backwards against the door, his heart pounding against his ribcage as he tried to catch his breath. 

“That--” he licked over his lips and swiped his fingers through his thick hair before shooting Tharn a glare. “You should really get that fixed. You’re rich, there’s no excuse to not have a working fucking seatbelt.”

The other man only chuckled and leaned back up into his seat. “I’ll take that under consideration.” Tharn told him, not a promise at all. In fact, it felt more like he was shrugging off the suggestion and Type wouldn’t be surprised at all if Tharn had planned for that entire thing to happen.

“...Fuck off.” He cursed instead and then pulled the door open of the car. Or tried. It was locked. He turned his head and glared. “Shit, Ai’Tharn, unlock it.”

Tharn’s finger playfully hovered over the babylock button before he chuckled and pressed down on it. Without waiting for a moment longer, Type launched himself from the car, cursing again as he tripped a little and hurried up to his apartment. Anything to be away from that guy.

Anything to be away from how Tharn affected him.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo yeah i'm not ready for the final tomorrow haha... not even a little... i'm probably going to do a TRIPLE drop tomorrow... just cause we're all going to be sad that its over :( I'll probably do it right before the episode airs or right after it so they're ready to read. sigh...
> 
> On that note, I finished typing chapter 24 (I'll be starting 25 soon) last night. We're sitting at almost 60k words and Act 1 will have officially ended come chapter 24. How many acts are there going to be in this story? Idk, at the moment lets say 3. That could change though (as in become more. I'd say minimum 3)

Tharn couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he watched Type walk a bit ahead of him, squinting his eyes against the sun as he looked at a paper map he held in his hand. If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he’d be going on actual dates with Type, he would’ve felt hopeful and then sad because he knew that was a thing that would probably never happen in his lifetime.

Yet, here he was, on an actual date with Type and of Type’s own accord. Well, sorta. Tharn let himself forget for a few moments that this was all a deal, all fake. It was business and they were being paid for it and no matter how cute Type looked, standing there in his white t-shirt and khaki shorts in confusion as he tried to figure out which way to go, Tharn wasn’t allowed to touch him or hold his hand the way he wanted to. 

Normally, he wouldn’t be so careful. He’d put the moves on, turn up the charm, and whichever boy he set his eyes on would easily fall for him. Tharn was easily likable. He’d always been likable, at least once he had become sure of himself and his sexuality, but he knew it wouldn’t work on Type. Type was literally as stubborn as a bull and seemed to enjoy fighting every little thing that Tharn said.

In a way, it was somewhat refreshing. Tharn had never had this much of a challenge before and it made him even more curious what lay hidden beneath the tough outer exterior that made up Type’s outward personality. 

Once in awhile, Tharn thought he got some hints of it in the way that Type’s expression would soften as they passed a dog on a walk with their owner, or how he’d suddenly get quiet, his hands folded in front of himself almost shyly when someone important was in the vicinity. At first, Tharn had thought it was an act that Type was putting on, and maybe it still partially was, but he could also sense the hint of truth beneath it all.

Was Type really so shy? 

Currently he was watching as Type struggled to find their way towards the lions, which was apparently one of the animals really wanted to see as they made their way through the Bangkok Zoo. Tharn had been the one to suggest the ‘date’, a little tired of the normal food outings (although he could never truly grow tired of those because any moment spent with Type was a moment well spent) and eager for something a little bit more adventurous.

He had noted the way Type’s eyes lit up at the suggestion only to have to hide his laughter when Type gave a nonchalant shrug, pretending as if he didn’t really care.

Tharn found Type easy to read at times, harder at others. He was certainly an enigma, but one that Tharn thought up as a late Christmas present, ready to unwrap. 

“I think it’s that way.” Tharn pointed off just to the left and Type quickly glanced at him before turning the map around in his hand so it was actually the right side up. Type looked embarrassed and bowed his head before storming off in the direction of the lions. Tharn could only laugh and watch him walk away, enjoying the view before he quickly rushed to catch up to him. 

“It doesn’t really matter anyway, this is just a zoo--I can go to the zoo any time and maybe I will. Maybe next time I’ll come by myself. It’ll be better than going with you.” Type was mumbling angrily, but Tharn could hear the lack of any actual anger in his voice quite easily. Tharn just let him rant, pretending as if he heard nothing, deciding to take just a little bit of pity on the guy. This was out of his comfort zone at least.

Soon, they reached the lion's den and Tharn leaned up against the fence. A huge ditch, almost like a mote, circled practically the entire part of the enclosure that was just fenced off, the ditch being too big for any of the lions to jump so that viewers could safely watch them without worry. Type leaned next to him and their arms brushed. If Type noticed, he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move away and Tharn smiled before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 

He took a few pictures of the lions and then took a small step back to take a picture of Type who didn’t even seem to notice, too busy with a look of awe on his face as he watched the proud felines navigate their enclosure. 

The look did something to Tharn that he wasn’t really expecting. A small lurch in his heart told him that he should be careful not to get too attached, but Tharn knew he fell in love easily. He always had. It was a danger, something that he had been trying to work on, something that Lhong had long since warned him about. 

He’d been doing okay with it. At least until New Years. At least until he had kissed Type on a whim, too eager to taste his lips to see if it was everything he had imagined they would be. 

They had been. They had also been more than that. 

With a slow breath out, Tharn slowly pushed his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the fence again. Instead of watching the lions, however, he let himself watch Type. They’d gone on a few dates since signing the contract and each one was a different sort of battle, but each time Tharn had ended the day with a smile on his face because he’d managed to make Type blush at least once throughout the entire ordeal. Not that he was keeping track, or anything. 

He wondered how the girls who had dated Type felt. He wondered how he had acted with them. Was he as demanding and bratty as he was with Tharn? He highly doubted it. Something told Tharn that Type was probably a perfect gentleman, charming to the umpteenth, knowing how to get his way. Although, if Type were to ask, Tharn would give him whatever it was that he wanted, so perhaps that wasn’t much different after all.

“Type…” he started slowly, careful as if Type himself were a lion that would ready himself for attack if he approached too closely. Type made a slight movement of his head, signalling that he heard, but didn’t say anything so Tharn figured it was safe to continue on. “That night. I didn’t--I didn’t force you or anything, did I?”

It was a thought that had been weighing at the back of his mind for awhile. At the time being, Type had seemed to want it just as badly as he had, but perhaps he’d been reading him wrong. Maybe at some point Type had told him to stop and Tharn, not wanting to hear it, just ignored it and continued anyway. He didn’t remember that happening, but it didn’t mean that it couldn’t. But Type had been acting so disgusted by the idea of it all that it worried Tharn. He just wanted to be sure.

There was a silence between them after the question, but it was neither stiff nor uncomfortable. Type didn’t say anything and Tharn didn’t push for an answer, instead looking back out across the vast green of the lion’s den. 

A few minutes later, he did get an answer.

“No. You didn’t.” Type pressed his hands into the metal of the fence and leaned back, but he wasn’t looking at Tharn, seemed to be doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Tharn. That was okay. 

“Was it…?” Tharn let the question hang, not finishing it but not thinking that he needed to. 

Type cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck, seeming to be trying to pretend that his face wasn’t as red as it was. “First? With a man.” He answered with a small nod and then he took in a breath, turning to look up at him. “I don’t really want to talk about it so we can talk about it this one time.” He glanced around as more people began to file over to the lion’s den and then he took Tharn’s arm, leading him over to an empty bench beneath a large oak tree. 

His date pushed his hands into the bench. Tharn could see his brain working in his head, trying to think about what to say. 

“I agreed to this because of the money. It’s a hard thing to turn down. But New Years…” Type grimaced. “Look--I’m not… gay. I was curious, maybe, I guess?” The other man gave a small groan, looking as if he were finding it difficult to find the right words. “I can’t like men. It’s whatever if you do, but I just--I can’t. My parents only have me and I play sports for a living and maybe Thailand is a bit more open with this than some other countries but… it’s still not America. We’re still in Asia and I just can’t.” He said sternly, staring directly at Tharn, meeting his gaze. “Do you get what I’m trying to say.”

Tharn got it. And it hurt. And maybe Tharn was lucky that he had spent his childhood growing up in America with his parents. Not that America didn’t have it’s issues, because it certainly did, but he understood what Type was saying. His parents had so easily accepted Tharn, hugging him and telling him they loved him no matter what it was he chose to do with his life. Not everyone had that. And what did Tharn really know about Type anyway?

“I get it.” Tharn told him softly, wanting nothing more than to lay his hand atop of Type’s, but that would be too much. It would overstep the boundaries that Type had just so clearly set in place. “There’s no hard feelings on my part. I was just… curious.” It did hurt a little, but it was better to know now, before it was too late, than later after Tharn had already fallen way too much. 

Type gave him a small smile and Tharn’s heart skipped. It would definitely be a work in progress for his emotions to catch up to what he realistically knew would and could be his and Type’s future together. 

“How about… we can work on being friends?” Tharn suggested, watching as Type bit down on his lip, looking so much smaller than he actually was. He was hunched over as he leaned on his hands, hiding the fact that he was actually just a little bit taller than Tharn. But Type was also much more slender than he was, but still, the muscles were obvious and Tharn knew Type was anything but weak.

“Hm,” Type made a sound of agreement, nodding his head just a little bit. “Friends--I can deal with.”

Tharn beamed and, for just a brief moment, he thought that Type had glanced at his lips, but it was just Tharn’s own wishful thinking.

He reached into his pocket again and pulled out his phone, scooting closer to a slightly taken aback Type. “I think it’s time that we post a photo together, don’t you?” Tharn asked and, without waiting for an answer, tossed his left arm over Type’s shoulder, pulling him as close as they could physically get without dragging Type onto his lap. Type made a noise of protest, but didn’t try to pull away and Tharn lifted his phone as he leaned his head against Type’s and took a few pictures of the two of them together.

Tharn let his arm linger for just a moment before he moved away, sitting a little bit further than he had been originally. He should put some distance. It was only fair to Type, as well as to his own emotions. 

“At least warn me next time.” Type told him, a frown on his face that looked more like a child’s pout than anything else.

“Deal.” Tharn grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. He would upload the pictures later, after the two of them had left the zoo. 

And later that night, as he uploaded the photos onto his Instagram, he couldn’t help but notice how Type in the photo was glancing at him, a small smile lighting up his face.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is a TRIPLE update... since... you know... it's D-Day TT 
> 
> Guys, I'm not ready to say g.. goo... goodby--nope I don't wanna say it. Tell me it isn't true!! Mew was laughing when he posted that... goodbye... tweet I'm sure >_>

Tharn tapped his pen against the paper in front of him, thinking for a moment before scribbling something out and replacing it with something else, a small smile on his face. He was writing a song, and the words were flowing, better than they had flowed in awhile. It was as if he’d found a muse, and that muse was none other than a bratty soccer player named Type. 

If anyone were to look at the lyrics and then to look at what was happening in Tharn’s life the day that he wrote the song, it’d be quite obvious who the song was for. He was sure when he showed his bandmates the song, they’d probably know right off the bat. 

The rumors were really starting to pick up after he had posted that picture of him and Type the day previously, the only thing he posted beneath the picture being the line ‘it was nice spending the day with you’. He let everyone’s imagination do the talking themselves, and it seemed to be working. He could spend a good hour scrolling through, reading all the comments beneath his pictures of the zoo, looking at how excited his fanbase was for this sudden turn of events.

There were a few people upset, shippers of him with other members of the band mainly,but most seemed to take the TharnType ship into swing whole-heartedly. It made Tharn grin when he thought about it. 

Maybe that wasn’t good for him. Type had already made it clear and Tharn accepted it, but it wasn’t so easy to move on from feelings and a part of Tharn didn’t want to move on, didn’t want to give up, not yet. There was something there in the air between the two of them. He could feel it, sense it, and he wanted to plant it and let it grow some roots. 

“Tharn--” came the impatient sounding voice and Tharn broke from his thoughts, looking up to see Lhong now sitting next to him, looking slightly annoyed. The look only lasted a fleeting moment however before it was replaced with one of concern so quickly that Tharn thought he had to have just imagined the annoyance on his friend’s face. “You didn’t hear me calling your name?”

Tharn blinked and glanced down at the paper before returning his gaze back to Lhong. Tharn was known to get kind of absent when he felt strong emotions, but he didn’t think he’d been that into his song-writing as to not even notice that Lhong had been talking to him.

He gave a sheepish grin and then laughed, nudging his friend to defuse and make light of the situation. “I was writing. Guess I was kind of zoned out. Sorry, Lhong. You have my full attention.” He promised, closing his notebook after capping his pen and laying it on the paper he was using. 

Lhong’s eyes searched him for a moment and Tharn thought about how good Lhong was at keeping his thoughts to himself. Tharn could never tell what the guy was thinking, not unless Lhong wanted him to be able to tell. It hadn’t always been like that. Lhong used to be a sort of open book back when they were teenagers and Tharn had first moved to Thailand from the states where he had spent most of his childhood. 

“Are you and that guy dating?” Lhong asked finally, holding out his phone to show him the picture that Tharn had uploaded. Tharn didn’t say anything so Lhong wordlessly tapped on his phone until Type’s profile came up.

He blinked and leaned in closer, looking at a picture of himself from the back that had been taken at the zoo, except he hadn’t realized the picture had been taken at all. Type had only posted it in the last hour, the caption reading a simple, ‘you too’.

If Tharn’s own caption hadn’t been so obvious, he wouldn’t even know what Type had meant by that but the smile on his face that overtook him seem to give Lhong all the answers he needed as the other man pulled his phone away from Tharn’s grasp, who had unknowingly started to take the phone so that he could look at the picture even longer.

“You have feelings for him.” It wasn’t a question, but there was a tinge of disappointment lining Lhong’s face and Tharn got it. He understood where Lhong was coming from.

Tharn fell so easily and he always ended up falling for the wrong person. They would end up cheating on him or breaking up at him and Tharn would be left a mess. The songs that came out of it were some of their biggest hits, not that their fans knew that aspect of the songs, although maybe they could guess that they were written from reality.

Lhong was probably worried. If their situations were reversed, Tharn would be worried for his friend as well. It was only natural to want the best for your friends, to not want to see their heart breaking into two. 

Type could so easily do that if Tharn let himself fall even more, but Tharn felt like he was in a race car with a broken brake and heading towards a cliff. How did one put a stop to that; a stop that doesn’t end with crashing into a wall?

“I’ve got a handle on it, don’t worry.” But even to his own ears, he didn’t sound so convincing and he knew his words wouldn’t convince Lhong either. 

“Tharn,” Lhong began, seeming to hesitate for a moment before he placed his hand on Tharn’s. He let him, accepting the comforting touch. “That guy… if it comes down to you or his career--he’s the sort of guy who will throw you under the bus so quickly that you won’t even have whiplash, you’ll be too busy being a pancake on the asphalt.”

“Graphic.” Tharn grimaced, the image sinking into his head. Type could be crass, but he didn’t think he was cruel. He could’ve told everyone that Tharn had forced the kiss (and truthfully, if Type hadn’t had kissed back, the kiss would’ve been forced), but instead he chalked it up to a drunken moment on New Years like any normal person. So Tharn’s reputation was intact and, indeed, Type’s among his own circle in the sports community had taken more damage.

That was all Tharn needed in order to know that Type wasn’t the sort of person to do something like that. 

“I’m just looking out for you.” Lhong added and Tharn looked back at him to see he was staring down at his own hands rather than at Tharn. He gave a small sigh and gently moved Lhong’s hand off of his arm, but only to replace it with his own arm wrapping tightly around Lhong’s shoulders.

There was a hint of a smile curving at Lhong’s lips and Tharn smiled at his friend’s own seeming happiness, giving his shoulders a tight squeeze. “I know you’re just looking out for me. You’ve always been looking out for me. I really couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

The smile that had only been hinted at was now plainly spreading over Lhong’s face. His friend who had been hunched over just a bit straightened his back and raised his eyebrows almost teasingly. “As long as you know that you can’t have a better friend than me.”

Tharn laughed and gave Lhong a slight push, the other man laughing in reply.

“Quite full of yourself, aren’t you, Ai’Lhong?”

“More like confident.” Lhong grinned and then slung his own arms around Tharn. “Ai’Tharn… I’m hungry. Come get food with me, na, na, na? Please?” 

Tharn pretended to think about it for a moment. “I could go for some food, but no sushi.” 

“As if I don’t know my best friend can’t eat raw food.” Lhong clapped his arms against his shoulders and then stood upwards, grabbing Tharn’s things. Tharn tried to stop him but Lhong just waved his hands away. “I got this--go get your car, you’re driving.”

-

When Lhong had invited Tharn out to lunch, the last thing he had expected for it to turn into was for him to be sitting across from Type and a friend that he’d introduced as Kom, but he wasn’t complaining. 

He and Lhong had chosen to get pizza, which was one of Tharn’s favorites (Tharn really loved anything with lots of cheese on it). He liked to think of it as some sort of destiny that right after they had walked in, Type and his friend had fallen suite.

There’d been an awkward silence, one in which the host seemed hesitant to interrupt before Tharn eagerly suggested that they all eat together, since they were all here anyway. No one really seemed to be jumping at the idea except for Kom who didn’t really seem to know or at least care about the awkward tension between the three of them. 

Once they were seated at the table, Tharn took the opportunity to introduce Lhong who gave a smile and a wave (knowing Lhong, however, Tharn could see that the smile, though polite, was as fake as they came). Type then introduced his friend Kom who had just arrived in Bangkok for a few days to visit. He was a friend from home, which Tharn learned was in Southern Thailand. 

Type’s family owned a resort there and Tharn made a mental note to find out which resort. A vacation did sound pretty nice…

And that was how they had all ended up at the same table, a silence enveloping the four of them. Tharn wanted to break it, but didn’t really know how, and Lhong didn’t seem to mind. Type was avoiding looking at absolutely everyone at the table and Kom was just looking curiously, if not somewhat amused, between the three of them.

It was Kom that broke the silence and Tharn decided that he liked him. 

“You know, when LBC’s first album came out, Type and I went out and bought it that same day.” There was a smile on his face even as Type quickly shot his head around and glared at his friend, hissing the man’s name under his breath, but Kom didn’t seem to notice or care.

Tharn grinned, unable to resist or hide it as he looked at the man directly in front of him. He enjoyed the way the blush crept up his neck to the tips of his ears. “I thought you said you hated LBC.”

Type continued to glare at Kom for a moment before giving Tharn a disgruntled look. “I do hate LBC--but your first album had Be Mine. Your first album was the only good one.” He could hear the lie in the words, but just decided to stay silent instead of tease, placing the straw of his Sprite in between his teeth and bit down on it. 

“What do you do?” Lhong asked Kom who sat across from him in a voice that told Tharn he was trying to be polite, but wasn’t entirely happy about the situation. Tharn appreciated the attempt. “You’re not famous.”

Kom only gave a small laugh and then shrugged. “I work at a record store. I help manage it, but that’s only to pay for bills. I’m studying to be a veterinarian.” As he said this, the waitress came by, setting all of their food they had ordered down on the table. “I was never really all that good at sports and Bangkok is nice, but I prefer the south. I do like animals. I want to specialize in exotic creatures.”

“Like zoo animals? Lions and tigers and bears, oh my?” Tharn questioned.

“Well, sure,” Kom grinned, amused. “But probably mostly snakes and reptiles and birds. Mainly animals people still keep as pets, but not dogs and cats. Though I’ll be able to do that too.” 

“Interesting.” Lhong said from across the table and Tharn shot him a look, quietly telling him to be nice. Normally Lhong was the utmost definition of polite, but he seemed to have lost the urge once meeting Type and his friend here. 

Kom didn’t lose his smile though. “Well, I think so.” 

Tharn looked across the table where Type seemed to be struggling with getting a slice of pizza that hadn’t been completely cut free. He quickly grabbed one of the butter knives from the table and reached forward, telling Type to let him do it and he cut the slice free, picking it up to place on Type’s plate. 

Type stared at his plate for a moment before looking up to look at Tharn who smiled. A roll of the eyes and then Type looked to the other end of the table. “I need ketch--”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Tharn reached forward and grasped the bottle. “I got it.” he stated, opening it up to pour onto Type’s pizza for him.

“Oi, hey--Tharn, that’s enough--” Type smacked his hand away and Tharn quickly sat back in his seat, trying to ignore the way that Lhong was staring at him.

Honestly, he himself didn’t really know what he was doing. Hadn’t he just had this conversation with Type yesterday? Hadn’t he told himself that he would stop thinking of Type in this way so that he wouldn’t get hurt like he always did? But it was as if his body were acting of its own accord. Or maybe it was his heart telling him the truth that Tharn already knew.

It was too late. There was no stopping himself from falling. 

And that reality hit him like a truck. Was this really his destiny? To continue to endlessly fall for men who could not or would not want him in the way that Tharn wanted to be with them? Perhaps it was karma. Perhaps in a past life he had hurt someone so much so that this was his punishment for it. How else could you explain that the one person who would probably actually be good to him, Tharn didn’t have feelings for? And the many that Tharn fell for never ended up being good to him.

It was almost comical. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, setting down the ketchup before he grabbed his own slice. They made light conversation and with each word spoken, he could see that Type was starting to relax a little bit more and that made him happy. It made his heart feel light as he stared across at him.

He only realized he was staring because, at one point, Type had looked up and caught his gaze. Then he did something Tharn hadn’t been expecting; he smiled back.

There was something about Type’s smile that caused him to feel lightheaded. Maybe it was the fact that Type so rarely actually gave pure, honest smiles that when Tharn saw them (especially if they were aimed at him), his body just didn’t know how to handle it. 

The way Type’s eyes lifted and sparkled with an almost innocence not really making sense but suited him all the same was almost too much for Tharn’s heart to handle. His stomach swooped and heart skipped and he wanted to put that smile in his pocket and keep it forever, keep it for only himself to look at.

Tharn didn’t really want other people seeing that smile and the idea that maybe there was someone out there who Type would prefer to give that smile to made Tharn’s insides warm with jealousy. 

This was all a bit too much. 

Was Tharn really such a hopeless romantic that he had already given his entire heart to a man that he had really only just met? Just spent one night with? But what a night it had been. He was constantly thinking about the sounds Type had made beneath him, the looks that had crossed over his face, pleased to know the other had enjoyed it.

Not so pleased to know that Type didn’t want it to happen ever again. Tharn would just have to live with that.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is a triple update! If you haven't read chapter 10 yet, please read that first! Thank you!
> 
> WARNING: Strong homophobic language!! 
> 
> We get a different POV today... so far the only chapter I've written (out of 26) with a pov of someone other than our main boys. But I'm sure it won't be the last.

Type had this stupid sort of smile on his face, one that got Kom wondering as he thought back on their lunch with Tharn and Lhong of LBC. The moment Kom had arrived in Bangkok, Type had assured him that no, he wasn’t gay, and no, he wasn’t dating Tharn it was all for show because he was being paid by a sponsor and technically he wasn’t supposed to be telling him this, but he had to let his best friend Kom know so that he didn’t think he was gay.

It had caused a painful pang in his chest, one that Kom had gotten so used to ignoring over the many years that he had known Type. It was difficult remaining friends with a person who hated one of the most important things about you. Not that Type knew that.

Kom had never confided in his friend that he was gay. He didn’t want to risk the chance of losing Type. They’d grown up together, playing soccer and hide and seek and watching movies. Their mothers were friends. They’d literally bathed with each other as small children. They were as close as friends could be. But they were different, Kom noticed, as they grew up. Kom’s feelings towards other boys shifted into something different than Type’s, while Type… made it fairly obvious his disdain for people like Kom.

He still remembered the first time Type had said that word--the one starting with an f that Kom tried not to think about because when he did, the memory was fresh in his mind. He could remember how it felt as if he had been punched in the stomach, all the air in his lungs suddenly evaporating. Kom had tried to remember that Type wasn’t talking about him when he said that word, he was talking about other people, but then that voice asked him if that was really the case.

He was like those other people that Type meant when he said that word, so didn’t that mean Type meant him too? Whether he knew it or not?

So Kom had buried this fact deeply, for the sake of their friendship, no matter how much it pained him. It wasn’t fair, but Kom didn’t want to lose Type, didn’t want to lose what they had all because he happened to like men.

But Kom didn’t think about that other secret he kept hidden from Type. Even if Type were to find out he was gay, Kom would make sure to take the second secret to his grave.

Type must not ever find out that he’s in love with him.

And it was a strange feeling now, watching Type smiling so stupidly as they headed back towards his friend’s apartment. He’d been smiling like that since they left the restaurant and he was fairly certain that Type didn’t even realize he was doing it. Was this because of Tharn? Was there not actually something there?

A suspicion had arisen in his mind when he found out that they had kissed on New Years. You don’t just kiss a person of the same sex because they’re there, there had to at least be an attraction, didn’t there? Or maybe it was wishful thinking that Kom felt, for if Type felt attraction to another man, did that not mean he could possibly one day feel an attraction to Kom?

Even just the idea alone had Kom’s heart racing, but he calmed himself. Just because a person was attracted to the same sex didn’t mean that they’d ever be attracted to their best friend. 

Kom had pretty much come to terms with his one-sided love. In fact, he was okay with it. As long as he could remain friends with Type then he was more than satisfied. It was the fear of what Type would do or say that held him back from telling him the truth, not the fear of rejection. Losing out on being with Type wasn’t nearly as bad as losing out on having Type continuing to be in his life. 

Still, a slight jealousy did form. It wasn’t something he could help. It was a natural human instinct and he wanted to ask. He wanted to question Type and pry from him the answer that Kom felt he already knew, but needed to be sure of.

Type had feelings for Tharn, at least there was an attraction there. But maybe he just didn’t know it yet.

Kom didn’t really know how to broach the subject. Was there a correct way? Was there a good way? Perhaps he should forget all about a way at all and just go on pretending as if he knew nothing. 

But knowing Type, and knowing how he was and how he could be, Kom didn’t feel as if that was his best option. What if Type is struggling? Kom had had no one to turn to during his days of curiosity and wonder and struggling to figure out who he was and where his place was at in this world. It’d been a horrible time that still weighed heavily on Kom’s emotions. He didn’t want Type, who already had such a difficult time with people like that, to suffer the same thing, if not worse, that he’d had.

“Ai’Type,” he began slowly as they entered the apartment.

“Are you thirsty?” Type asked, heading over to the fridge without a hesitation. Kom paused for a moment as he slid off of his shoes and Type pulled some water from the door.

“Uh--no. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.” It was now or never.

“About what?” Type wasn’t even looking at him, he was looking at his glass as he poured cold water into it. Kom was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea, but felt as if it were a bit too late to back out now.

“About Tharn.” He swallowed tightly, slowly walking over to join his friend, but stood on the opposite side of the counter to watch as Type pushed his brows together and looked up at him in confusion, but said nothing, a clear signal for Kom to continue on. “I was just--I wondered. You don’t… have feelings for him or anything do you?”

The bottle almost slid from Type’s hand, but his reflexes quickly allowed him to catch it and set it down on the table. Both hands then pressed down flat onto the counter and he stared at Kom with an almost intense, deadly gaze. “Do I have what for who? I don’t think I heard you properly, so can you repeat that? I thought I heard you ask if I have feelings for Tharn.”

“That’s what I asked.” Kom told him, waiting with bated breath for the backlash he knew he was about to receive.

He was surprised when it didn’t come and instead Type stood there and stared at him, his eyes flickering across Kom’s face to the point that he started to feel a little bit warm around the edges. “Type?”

“I’m trying to process this.” Type said before Kom could continue, still staring at him. “You think that I have feelings for LBC’s drummer?”

“You did kiss him--”

“I was drunk and it was New Years.” The excuse was starting to wear thin and he could tell that Type knew that as well by the way he suddenly stammered over his words and stood up a little bit straighter than he had been.

“You’re fake dating him.”

“Emphasis on fake--I’m dating him for a sponsorship. Once the sponsorship is over then I never have to see him again.” Type sounded so stern about it that Kom almost believed it. 

“You have that smile on your face you get when you have a crush on someone.” He then pointed out, sighing as he settled down onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to his chest as he watched Type standing before him, trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

“I don’t get a smile when I have a crush on someone.” The argument was weak.

“Yes you do. You’ve always gotten it with any of the girls you dated while we were back in school. And now you have it again. After having lunch with Tharn.” The words sent a painful stab to his heart, but he fought it back, determined to be a good friend and support Type no matter what.

And Type was looking panicked, his eyes wide and fingers clenching into fists at his side. He looked unsure of what to say back so Kom decided to continue.

“It’s okay you know.” He needed to make sure that Type knew this; that nothing was wrong with liking a man. Type had gone so long believing that it was gross or disgusting that Kom wasn’t so sure he’d listen to him now, but he had to assure him. He wondered if maybe everything Type had told him about how he felt about gay people was really just Type’s own self-denial. A worse friend than Kom would’ve thrown the words back at Type because of how much he’d been hurt by Type’s own words.

But that wasn’t Kom and he cared about Type too much to let Type suffer as he tried to figure out his own emotions. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay, Type.” and it was the first time he’d ever said those words. He never said them in defense when Type tossed the word fag around. He never said them when Type said that seeing two men kiss made him feel sick. He never even said it when Type said he didn’t think he could be friends with a gay person. But it wasn’t difficult to understand why he said them now, when Type needed to hear them, rather than Kom needed to defend himself.

He just cared more about Type than he did himself (and maybe that wasn’t healthy).

“Or bisexual,” He added. “Or anything else. It’s not like you’re hurting someone. It’s just about who you fall in love with.”

“I’m not in love with Tharn.” Type denied quickly, still standing in the same spot. 

Kom looked at him a little sadly. “I didn’t say that you were. But you have a crush on him, don’t you?”

“I don’t.” Type’s voice was firm and eyes narrowed as he glared down at Kom. He felt an icy chill and thought maybe he had made a mistake, maybe he shouldn’t have said any of this at all because now Type was angry at him and when Type was angry it was a storm of silent treatments and cold shoulders.

He had once dropped a friend and never talked to him again because he refused to apologize first. Type was as stubborn as stubborn came. 

“You’re putting… thoughts into my head, Kom, and I don’t appreciate it.” Type told him, staring straight at him with eyes that seemed to burn. “I’m not gay, or bisexual. I don’t like men. I was drunk. It was New Years and I got caught up in a moment and I regret it more than anything I’ve ever regretted in my life. I feel disgusted and sick just thinking about it. I’m not into men. Being into men as a man is gross and makes me want to vomit and I don’t want to be around people like that. Do you really think I could be like that? Being around Tharn makes me uncomfortable. He’s like that. I’m not like that.”

It was as if he was talking more to himself than to Kom, so Kom stayed silent, turning his eyes away to cast them towards the table in front of him. He hugged the pillow he held a bit tighter. Kom should tell him. Tell him that he was gay. Let him know. Maybe if Type knew that his best friend of all these years was like that then he would change his mind. 

“Fags shouldn’t even exist. It’s a biological abnormality. It’s literally a chemical imbalance in the brain.” Maybe if he told him Type would see that Kom, and people like him, were really just like everyone else. “Marriage? They shouldn’t even be allowed to live in the same area as normal people, let alone get married--and adopt kids. Seriously? They’re a bunch of perverts! I wouldn’t want to see a kid raised by people like that, what if they did something to them?”

Kom closed his eyes, his fingers clutching at the pillow, trying not to listen, trying not to hear. Maybe if he told Type, then Type would see how none of this was true because Kom certainly wasn’t a pervert. Despite his attraction and his feelings for Type, he’d never made a move, never acted as anything more than a best friend, and he had planned to keep it that way, not willing to lose Type. 

“And you’re trying to tell me it’s okay? Kom, what the fuck? Are you just trying to be a good friend or something? I appreciate it, but it’s not the case. I’m not gay. I’m not fucking bisexual. I’m definitely not falling in love with Tharn Kirigun and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” He could hear Type take in a deep breath, but Kom didn’t open his eyes, too afraid that if he did he might start crying. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Type asked suddenly and Kom felt the bounce of the couch and then what he assumed was the remote hit his leg. “Pick one out, I’ll go make some popcorn.”

He heard Type walk away and Kom gave himself a moment before he opened his eyes, his heart pounding and body quivering from the effort it took not to start crying.

The words were nothing new. He had heard them a million and one times, but they always made him feel the same way. Sad, was the simple way of saying it, and Kom couldn’t really think of a better word to describe how he felt. He was just sad. Sad that Type felt so strongly about this. Sad that Type hurled these words without knowing how much it was like taking a knife to dig into Kom’s side. Sad that Type felt so insecure in himself, Kom could tell, that he had to convince himself of these things.

But mostly he felt sad that he still listened to it. Sad that Kom didn’t have the courage to let go in the way he truly knew that he needed to. He didn’t deserve this, the abuse that Type, even unknowingly, hurled out towards him. Kom deserved better than this.

And maybe if he told him, he could change Type’s mind. Maybe he could be that person, the one to break through that harsh wall that had somehow built its way up inside of his best friend. Maybe if he told him, he could be happy and have his friend care about him for exactly who he was without having to hide this big part of himself.

Maybe if he told him… but Kom didn’t tell him.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is a triple update! If you haven't read chapters 10 and 11 please read those first! 
> 
> Some TharnType bonding! <3

Even days after Kom had left, Type still couldn't help but be a bit upset at him for putting those kinds of thoughts into his head. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of the words Kom had spoken to him since that day, things about liking Tharn, falling in love with him--it was just weird and absolutely not true. How could Kom even think things like that? Just because Tharn did have a way of making him smile didn’t mean that Type was developing feelings for him beyond that of a close acquaintance, a friend. That was just… 

Type sighed. He felt a bit bad for his rant and had that same night, wondering why he had said such horrible things. It’d been years since he’d last spoken like that, because he didn’t really believe much of any of it, but he had panicked and it had been his way of trying to douse the accusations that Kom had tossed at him. What if Kom thought badly of him because of his (absolutely non-existent) feelings for Tharn? For men?

He couldn’t take the chance that anyone would misunderstand him, let alone his best friend. So he had ranted and said hurtful things and it’s not like he didn’t fail to notice how quiet Kom had gotten, but he did wonder about it. 

Was there a reason? It’s not like it was the first time that Type had gone on a rant like that, specifically at Kom. Maybe Kom was tired of hearing it, maybe he had no strong feelings in either direction. Type would just have to let it go, it didn’t really matter much anyway.

But now he couldn’t stop thinking about Tharn. He couldn’t stop thinking about that little smile the drummer would get on his face, so flirty and teasing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way that it made him feel. Something. It made him feel something and that was enough to tell Type that he really needed to get laid. With a girl.

It was just because he’d hadn’t had sex with a girl in a long time. A few months, the last person he’d had sex with being Tharn. So maybe there was some left over attraction there that he hadn’t managed to get out of his system. A good old hookup with a girl should do wonders for setting him back on track though, he was sure of it.

But that would have to wait because he was on his way over to Tharn’s. 

Not to do anything--no, absolutely not. This was strictly business. They were going to play games, have some dinner, take a few pictures, and then do their very first live stream together. Just simple buds being buds. Well, buds who were being paid to be buds. 

Type kept thinking about the sponsorship in his head. Once it was over, he could move on and forget all about this.

The apartments that Tharn lived at was impressive. The gated community promised privacy. He had to pass through security in order to be accepted in and once he was through, he made his way to the other’s apartment, searching the walls for the correct room. It was quiet in the hall, no noisy neighbors, no pets barking, not at all like Type’s place which, although nice, wasn’t nearly to this level, and that was surprising, considering Tharn was the rockstar. 

He rang the bell and leaned back on his heels as he waited for the door to be answered.

Type didn’t have to wait long because only a couple of moments later, Tharn answered the door. Type tried to ignore the sudden dizziness that came over him as he stopped breathing, his lips parting just a little at the sight of Tharn wearing a dark sleeveless LBC shirt and dark grey sweatpants that Type pretended not to notice clung to his thighs. Casual. Incredibly casual. Type was nothing special, just a t-shirt and his pair of most comfortable jeans, but he knew he didn’t look half as good in his own clothes as Tharn looked in his lounging wear. 

Tharn smiled and that dizziness turned into a slight throb in his temple. 

“You made it! I just finished ordering some food so it should be here in about an hour. I thought we could just go ahead and play while we wait.” The drummer opened the door wider and Type hesitated for only a moment, trying to catch his breath before he quietly walked inside, sliding off his shoes.

He peered around. The entry was dimly lit but not because the lighting was bad, but because it was one of those lights where you could choose how bright you wanted it. Apparently Tharn had chosen dim. 

The walls were white, yet the living room felt warm as he walked into it. Pictures of people and places hung in practically every corner. There was a sectional couch over by the windows, a tv placed in the opposite corner and soft, warm looking rug lay beneath the entire area. He noticed the coffee table was pushed to the side to make room for a set up of blankets and pillows closer to the tv that Tharn had set up. He seemed to have put some thought and work into it and Type had a strange feeling that, rather than just an apartment, he had stepped into a home.

He felt oddly at home himself.

“Nice place.” He said finally, his hand brushing along the back of the plush, dark, sectional couch, his eyes glancing up to look at all the pictures. Pictures of Tharn and what he could only assume was his family and friends. 

“Thanks. Are you thirsty? I’ve got water, Sprite, beer…” Tharn trailed off and Type noted that he sounded a little unsure. He supposed he understood. This was Type’s first time here, their previous tryst having been in a hotel room that Tharn had apparently rented for the evening. He wondered why. It wasn’t like the club hadn’t been that close to Tharn’s place, but maybe it was on purpose, just in case he’d found someone he wanted to spend the night with. 

It made sense, and it also told Type that Tharn didn’t let just anyone into his apartment. But he was letting Type in.

Type wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

“I’ll just have some water for now. Save the rest for the food.” He slowly sat down on the very edge of the couch, almost as if afraid that it would collapse beneath his weight which was ridiculous because Type wasn’t that heavy. 

“Sure,” Tharn replied and turned to head over to the kitchen just a few feet away. Type let out a slow breath, rubbing his hands along his jeans. Why did he feel so tense? This wasn’t a date. It was just two friends, hanging out. They literally had to do nothing but play games, take some pictures, and do a live stream together and talk. Like friends do. That was it.

So why did it feel like so much more than that?

It was easy to fall into being comfortable, so easy that Type had actually somehow managed to forget how nervous he felt being there. They sat cross-legged on the cushions, blankets piled up around them in front of the television, their controllers in hand and competitive nature rising like the temperature during summer. 

Tharn was good at games to the point that made Type curse, reach over, and push him in order to try and distract him, but Tharn would only laugh and push him back and Type would end up losing the fight or the race, whatever they were playing at the time. They took a break while they were eating, instead snapping pictures of their food to post to instagram. Tharn shared stories with him about growing up, about his parents and his brother and younger sister and Type was actually interested. He listened with rapt attention as he shoveled food into his mouth and then he’d share about his own family. About the resort and about how he was an only child but Kom was pretty much like a brother to him.

It was surprising how easy conversation came, how easy it was to forget that he and Tharn weren’t really friends. Were they friends? Would it be so bad to be friends? Type chewed on a piece of chicken as he thought it over, his eyes glancing at Tharn as the other man smiled and laughed, a brilliant sound, one that made Type feel warm. He actually didn’t mind it. 

After dinner, they played a few more games before deciding they should probably go ahead and do their live while it was still early enough that people might actually join to talk to them. 

Type had to admit that he felt a little nervous. He’d posted a few pictures with Tharn, but he hadn’t ever taken the chance to scroll through the comments, too afraid of what people might be saying about him. Tonight, there’d be no way around it. He’d see whether he liked it or not.

Tharn set up the phone in a way that it would show both of them without either having to hold it, he then settled back down on the floor next to Type and comfortingly pressed his hand to his knee. Type didn’t move away.

“You ready?” Tharn asked, his eyes glancing him over, actually looking at him and Type didn’t know how there was a difference between looking and looking, but Tharn was looking.

He gestured to the phone. “Well, we have to do it.” It was a non-answer, but the best that Type could give. He didn’t know if he was ready. He was going to do it anyway.

Tharn leaned forward and began the live. Almost at once, people started joining in and exclaiming in excitement upon seeing Type. He gave a small smile and pressed his hands down in between his legs, leaning a bit forward to read the comments better.

“Hey guys!” Tharn grinned, seeming to be a natural at this sort of thing. A different air came about him, one of a professional entertainer. Type didn’t think he’d be able to do that so easily. “I know it’s been awhile since I’ve done a live, but, to make up for it, I have a special guest.” Tharn then gave Type a small nudge, his bare arm pressing against Type’s skin. Type shivered and then wondered why. It wasn’t cold. 

“Hi,” he gave a tiny wave, his voice a little too quiet, but still loud enough to just barely be heard. He could feel Tharn’s curious gaze on him before he turned it back to the camera.

“We were actually just sitting here playing some games, but we wanted to say hi to all the fans and all the people who have been supporting us. What are you guys doing?” Type just leaned back, the coffee table digging into his spine, and watched Tharn. Watched how natural he interacted with complete strangers. Type would never be able to do that. “Eating, doing homework… you’re doing homework and watching us? Aren’t we a bit distracting though?” Tharn grinned, his voice then lowering. “It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“Shouldn’t you be telling them to concentrate on their homework?” Type suddenly asked, raising his eyebrows. “If they have homework and they fail because they’re busy watching us, that would make it our fault. School is important.” Type had always been good in school, even when he skipped class, he made up for it with doing the work perfectly. 

“They just need a break and to be refreshed. Isn’t that right?” Tharn asked his phone as if expecting a verbal answer back. 

“You must’ve done badly in school.” Type’s lips twitched and he pulled his legs up to his chest to rest his arms around them.

“I didn’t do badly.” Tharn argued, turning his head to look at him. “I did--okay.” Type just stared at him. “Well, turns out I didn’t need school anyway. Guys, don’t follow my lead.” Tharn laughed and the sound made Type feel a little uneasy, but in a good kind of way, if that was at all possible. 

“Don’t follow his lead.” Type agreed, leaning a little closer to the camera, resting his hands on the floor in front of him. “He’s a bad influence.” a pillow smacked into the back of his head and he sat up, glaring at Tharn before grabbing the pillow to smack him back with it. “That’s abuse.”

“Hitting you with a pillow is not abuse.” Tharn argued, grasping tightly onto the pillow so that Type wouldn’t be able to grab hold of it again no matter how much he tried.

“You’re ignoring your viewers.” Type pointed out and then leaned away, trying hard to fight the smile that wanted to spread over his lips.

“Oh--” Tharn quickly crawled forward and sat up on his knees to look at the comments people were sending. Most of them consisted of ‘cute’, wishing them to be happy, their names mushed together like TharnType. People seemed to be enjoying their interaction. There was not one negative comment and Type wondered how Tharn had found such supportive fans. “Are you two dating?” Tharn said suddenly and Type’s eyes shot to look over at him.

Tharn leaned backwards and turned to look at Type, raising his eyebrows with a small smile. Type just stared back at him and then Tharn slung his arm around Type, tugging him closer into his chest. Every bone in his body told him to pull away, quickly, but he fought it and let it happen, instead sinking a little bit into his side. He had to admit that it was rather comfortable.

They left that question without an answer. “Anyway, we just wanted to say hi. We’ll let you guys get back to what you were all doing before we interrupted you. Say bye, Type.”

“Bye, Type.” Type said to the camera with another small wave and Tharn laughed, reaching forward to shut off the live with his free hand. 

Tharn’s arm was still wrapped around him and neither of them moved away. 

“It’s getting kind of late.” Tharn said after a few moments, Type still curled up beneath his arm. He could feel the other looking at him, watching him and his reaction, but Type was too busy concentrating on trying to slow his heart that was beginning to beat much too fast in his chest, especially as Tharn’s fingers gently began to rub circles where the sleeves of his t-shirt ended. 

He was almost too aware of the feeling of those circles being created. It was a soft, smooth brushing of skin against his and Type wasn’t all that ticklish, but this tickled. It tickled his stomach in a way that warmed his entire body. 

“Yeah.” He swallowed tightly. “I should go.” But he didn’t make a move to get up, much too comfortable and warm.

A pause, and then, “Stay the night.” It wasn’t a question.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more TharnType bonding!

Somehow Tharn had managed to get Type to spend the night at his apartment and he wasn’t really sure what he had done in order to get this miracle to happen, but he wasn’t going to question it or think too hard on it because, at this very moment, Type was next to him and they were setting up the floor in the living room to sleep on.

Type refused to sleep in the bed with him (and Tharn supposed he could understand why), but Tharn didn’t feel comfortable taking the bed while his guest lay on the floor and he wasn’t about to offer to sleep on the floor, more curious if Type would give in and ask to sleep in the bed together instead. So far it hadn’t happened, but Tharn still had a little bit of hope left inside of him. 

They settled over by the couch, the table now completely pushed to the side so that they could see the television from where they lay, pillows stacked up beneath their heads. Type was oddly silent, tapping his hands against his stomach and Tharn had the strongest urge to reach over and grab them. He fought it and instead turned a movie on that was already half over, lowering the sound because it wasn’t really important. He doubted that either of them were really going to pay attention to it anyway.

He rolled over onto his side and propped his head up onto his hand, staring at his guest. Tharn let himself look, really look, letting his eyes gaze over Type’s face uninterrupted for what could be the very first time. Type had an interesting face. He didn’t look like anyone Tharn had ever seen before. His skin was tanned from being out in the sun and Tharn remembered it being warm to the touch the night they had spent together. At the time, he had thought it was the effect of the alcohol coursing through their bloodstreams, but maybe it was just Type’s natural temperature. 

His brows were thick and there seemed to be a permanent crease in between them, even as he stared up at the ceiling, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, looking as if he were in deep thought. Tharn scooted a little closer. He wanted to rub at that little spot between his eyebrows, help soothe and relax him. Instead he clenched his hand in the blanket with a small sigh and rolled over onto his back as well.

That would be overstepping boundaries and Tharn didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to scare Type off just as they were finally starting to be friendly towards each other.

“How did you figure out you were gay?” 

The question came without warning, taking Tharn by surprise and he turned his head to look at Type, but Type still stared up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his chest. His fingers clutched at the blanket as well. He was nervous, Tharn could tell.

“I just kind of knew.” Tharn said lightly, knowing it wasn’t the answer that Type wanted to hear. Type pursed his lips a little. “You can feel it. It’s not hard. You know what sexual attraction feels like. But it’s also more than that. It’s the emotional connection too. I’ve always found it easier to connect with men.”

“But isn’t that normal?” Type asked, not moving an inch from his spot. “We’re men, of course bonding with men is easier; we have more things in common with men.” 

Tharn just gave a little shrug, not knowing what it was that Type wanted him to say. “Maybe, but like I said, it’s different for everyone. There’s no… right or wrong answer and you can go decades thinking you’re one thing and then realizing that you’re another. It’s okay to… not be sure of something.”

Silence filled the space between them and then suddenly Type was rolling over onto his side, his arm snaking its way beneath the pillow as he hugged onto it, his eyes flickering across Tharn’s face. The gaze alone made Tharn’s breath catch and he wondered how it was so easy for a person like Type to affect him this much. 

“But doesn’t that make things more confusing? Isn’t it better to just be one thing?” Type almost sounded as if he were asking himself and so Tharn shifted so that he was better facing his new friend, their bodies barely two feet away from each other. 

“You tell me, Type.” Tharn murmured, resting his hand in between their two bodies, close to Type’s. He noticed the way Type seemed to stretch his fingers out the moment Tharn laid his hand down and he wondered if it would be okay to do the same, to place his hand on top of Type’s. “Do you think it’s okay?”

Type flicked his eyes downwards, looking at their hands, but not moving his away and Tharn felt that maybe it was okay to try. He inched his fingers forward and when Type didn’t pull back, he slid them over the other’s hand, just the mere touch of Type’s skin sending a tingling sensation from the tips of his fingers up to his elbow. 

“I want to think that it’s okay.” He admitted and Tharn could feel that this was a lot. It was a step and it was honest and he took Type’s hand fully, giving it a small, comforting squeeze the best that he could. “I don’t even know why I think that it’s not. You sit there and you say these things to me and you treat me like a good person, but the other day I was saying awful shit about people like you, Tharn.” Type looked back up and, it could be a trick of the light, but Tharn thought that Type’s eyes were looking a little glassy, a little bit wet. “I don’t even know why I do it. I don’t… I don’t believe any of it, but when I get scared I just--I say these things. It’s like word vomit. I can’t stop. I have to… deny and act like a jackass and a total homophobe so that people won’t think I’m--well, like I’m like you.”

Tharn just listened, unsure of what to say, what he should say. It seemed inappropriate to interrupt, so he didn’t and instead lay there patiently as Type released everything on his mind that he was carrying with him, everything that was causing him to suffer alone. 

“Is it bad?” Type questioned but Tharn wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Is it bad if I don’t want to be like you? I don’t want to have to worry about my future just because I like men. I don’t want to think that one day I can get sick if I’m not careful. Or about how I’ll never be able to give my parents a grandchild as their only son, their only kid. I’ve already chosen soccer over taking over my dad’s resort, isn’t that selfish enough?” Type clenched his eyes shut and turned his head in to the pillow, his shoulders raising and falling quickly as he took in deep breaths. 

“I want to find a girl and date her openly. I want to get married and have kids and grow old and just--I want to live without all the complication that comes with being with a guy. I’m not strong enough for that.” Type pulled his hand back and clutched the pillow completely to him until Tharn couldn’t see his face and could only watch as his shoulders shook, signaling the signs of crying, but Tharn couldn’t hear anything.

Tharn blinked, hesitating for a moment before he grasped Type’s arms, moving his hand up and down the other man’s back, trying to comfort, trying to soothe, but he wasn’t really sure how. “Ai’Type…” He said softly, furrowing his brows and feeling as if he was the one who wanted to clutch at a pillow and cry, but only because the sight of Type crying was something that caused an ache to his own heart. “It’s okay. Nobody is telling you that you have to be something specific or force yourself to be ready for something that… you just aren’t.”

He hesitated before lifting his hand and pressing it down onto the back of Type’s head. His hair was a little coarse, but over all full and thick and Tharn enjoyed running his fingers through it, lightly scraping his nails along his scalp. Type then shifted, turning so that his face was now visible and he was looking up at Tharn sitting above him. Wetness encircled his eyes and Tharn lifted his other hand, bringing it forward to wipe his thumb along his skin, drying it the best that he could.

How was Tharn supposed to get over a person who looked at him in this way? 

Type’s eyes had trailed to his lips, Tharn could tell that much. He could see it in the way his eyes were fluttering almost closed, in the way that his teeth sunk down into his lower lip, causing it to plumpen just a little bit. Tharn had forgotten what Type’s lips tasted like and he wanted to lean in and taste them again, this time to memorize more than anything else.

Somewhere along the lines, Tharn had begun to lean down. Type didn’t move from his spot, so he took it as a good sign. His breath came out hot and soon his and Type’s breathes were mixing in the air between him. The cliche was right, the silence was thick in the air as he trailed his hand from Type’s hair to cup at his cheek, brushing his thumb along the smooth, tanned skin.

He could actually feel Type’s racing pulse beneath the tips of his fingers and he could hear his own in his ears. They only got stronger as Tharn leaned his forehead against Type’s, letting the moment simer for just a moment before he leaned in, fighting to keep his eyes open so that he could peer onto Type’s face as he kissed him. Oh, how he wanted to kiss him…

But there was a hand suddenly on his chest, firm yet gentle and Tharn opened his eyes wider to see Type with his own closed, swallowing tightly and speaking in a voice so hoarse that Tharn knew he had affected him in at least some way. “Tharn… I can’t do it.”

Tharn’s eyes searched Type’s face, wanting to see that the other wasn’t just playing some coy attitude, but it was real and Tharn didn’t want to press Type too hard.

“I’m sorry…” he breathed out, pulling back, his own body shaking a little from the pure emotion that he had just felt. “I’m sorry--I really shouldn’t have done that.” He implored, hoping that Type would forgive him and not freak out.

“It’s okay.” Type murmured, slowly pushing himself upwards until Tharn’s hands fell from his body. “You stopped when I said no so… it’s okay.” 

“Of course.” Tharn replied, sitting back and squeezing his hands together in his lap, trying to rid himself of the urge to touch Type that he still held. 

Type raised his hands and wiped at his face. Tharn silently watched him. It was strange that Type wasn’t embarrassed about the fact he had just cried in front of him and Tharn wondered what that meant. Did it mean Type was comfortable enough next to him to do something like this? Or that he was just so upset he didn’t really care? They were two opposite extremes, and Tharn knew exactly which he would prefer.

“Do you… need some water?”

The other man glanced at him, seeming to size him up for a moment before nodding. “Thanks…” 

Tharn just nodded and gave him a slight smile before standing to go grab a bottle of water. “It’s no problem.” A moment later, he returned with the bottle and handed it over to Type who opened it and took a long drink before setting it aside. 

Another moment of silence. “Can we… sleep in your bed? I think it’ll be more comfortable.” Tharn was shocked at the question but didn’t hesitate to nod and agree. He grabbed the pillows and blankets, picking them up off of the ground as Type followed suite, grabbing some of the others as well as his water and followed him towards the bedroom.

After fixing the bed and pulling back the covers, he climbed in, watching as Type seemed to debate for a brief moment before climbing in next to him. He flopped down onto the pillows and tugged the covers up to his chin, blinking his wide eyes up at Tharn as if he expected something.

Tharn couldn’t help but smile as he turned away, shutting off the lights before he also lay down into the bed. 

“Goodnight, Tharn.” Came the soft voice from next to him, almost so cute that Tharn had difficulty believing it was Type at all. 

Still, the well wishes warmed his core as he closed his eyes. “Goodnight, Type… sweet dreams.”


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some more homophobic language... but it's not Type you'll want to smack the hell out of this time
> 
> Also I hate how this is formatted but I've got things to do so I don't have time to format it a bit better or else I won't be able to upload the chapter until the afternoon so here you go!

Type rushed out of Tharn’s apartment practically the moment he woke up. He’d been planning to do so anyway, but he had hoped that he could do it before Tharn woke up to avoid the awkwardness of having cried on his fucking shoulder like a baby. Luck was not in his favor however as Tharn was already awake and making breakfast by the time Type woke up. 

He made a quick excuse that he was sorry, but he wouldn’t be able to stay because he was late for practice. This wasn’t exactly a lie, he _did_ have practice but it wasn’t for another couple of hours. Still, he high-tailed it out of that apartment, trying to pretend that he didn’t see the disappointment on Tharn’s face and hurried back to his own place.

The moment he shut the door of his own place behind him, he leaned back against it to catch his breath and think about the night previously. What had gotten over him? He hadn’t even been drinking and he just straight out starts crying like that? Opening up to him like that? Type barely knew Tharn and he was surprised that Tharn didn’t kick him out right away for being overly needy and weird. 

Then there was that… almost kiss, Type supposed it was. Tharn had been so close that he could see the fine details of his face. There’d been a slight pimple on his cheek, so small that it was barely there at all. An eyelash stuck to his lower eyelid and Type’s lower lip looked as if he had recently bit it rather hard. All of these things, Type had noticed and they were still heavy in his memory.

He didn’t deny that he needed to talk to someone, but why had he talked to Tharn of all people? Why not Techno? But then he thought about telling Techno about all of that and grimaced. They were close, best friends, but there were some things even he didn’t want to share with Techno, especially when it was about what he had said to Kom and his own battle within himself that he was trying to fight against. 

Tharn was just… easy to talk to and that surprised Type more than the fact that he had almost kissed him.

But he didn’t have time to think about this. He had to take a shower, get changed, and head to practice. 

-

Type sighed as Techno slid onto the bench next to him, staring at him with a smug sort of grin that purposefully hinted that he knew something Type either didn’t or didn’t want him to know. It wasn’t difficult to guess what so instead of playing along with it, he just leaned down to unlace his cleats and said, “Yes, Techno, I spent the night at Tharn’s house. Get your teasing over with so I can get the fuck home and eat something.”

“Man,” Techno whined, sounding disappointed that Type didn’t sound all that upset. “I wanted to make fun of you. After all that happened, staying the night at his house willingly? You two sure are getting close.” He nudged him with his arm and Type grabbed his cleat and raised it high in the air. Techno quickly lifted his hands, holding them palm out as he leaned away with a nervous smile. “Hey, hey--no need to get violent. Okay. I won’t tease.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave him a sharp upwards nod. “You watch what you’re going to say or you’re getting smacked in the head with this, No.” Type promised and then removed.

“I’m just--honestly curious.” Techno said carefully, his words a bit slower as he kept himself tilted away from Type. “When did you become so friendly? Like I know you have to hang out and stuff for your _thing_ , but is it necessary to spend the night? Are you actually friends with him?”

Type took in a deep breath, leaning heavily on his hands as he stared across at his locker in front of him. It was a question that was both easy and difficult to answer. He supposed he considered himself to like Tharn enough to call him a friend, but calling him a friend came with complications that Type didn’t want to think about. 

So instead he just shrugged, grabbed his cleats and stuffed them into his locker. “He’s not that bad.” He admitted, reaching his arms behind himself and tugging off his practice shirt to stuff into his bag to wash. 

“Not that bad, huh? I guess Thiwat enjoys having a dick shoved up his ass now, boys.” Type’s hand clenched around the door to his locker at the sound of the voice. Cap Aksornpan had always been a difficult person to have around. He was more outspoken than Type, had worse temper than Type, worse attitude than Type--he was pretty similar to Type, except even Type knew that he was ten times worse. 

“What the fuck did you just say Aksornpan?” His fingers turned white around the metal door and then he turned to face the other man, tall and broad shouldered and Type definitely wouldn’t be a match for him in a fight. 

“That was uncalled for Aksornpan!” Techno stood from where he sat, looking pissed himself, his face contorted into rare anger. It was difficult to get Techno angry, but if there was one sure fire way to do so, it was to insult one of his friends. 

“No,” Aksornpan glared at the two of them. “You know what’s uncalled for? Sharing a locker room with a fag. Now I’m gonna have to be afraid of washing my junk off in case Thiwat here gets a hardon.”

The palm of Type’s hand ached from where he was clenching his hands into fists, his nails digging into the flesh. If this were anyone else, Type would’ve punched them already, but because they were on the same team, he couldn’t risk it. But it took all that he had in order to stop himself from taking a step forward to hit the son of a bitch. 

“Even if I was a fag, I sure as hell wouldn’t get off on your tiny junk.” Type replied back instead, his voice shaking in his anger, but also shaking at the accusation. This had been what he was afraid was going to happen.

And it happened.

“Tiny junk?” Aksornpan laughed but it was less humorous and more mirthful. “It’s premium sausage not like your tiny Vienna.”

Type actually wanted to vomit at that. 

“Aksornpan,” Techno’s voice was stern as he pointed off towards the showers. “Go cool your fucking head off before I actually smack it off.” Though the team had no actual captain, Techno was usually the one best at keeping the peace between opposing members. He was fairly level-headed and good-natured. It was in rare times like this where he showed sternness and authority, however and Type really couldn’t appreciate him more than he did in this moment.

Aksornpan’s eyes burned as he looked between the two of them and then he gave a smirk, shrugging as he grabbed his towel and shut the door to his locker. The rest of the locker room was silent, some having gone about their business and headed into the shower, the rest just stood there, watching the three of them.

“Fine, I’ll go. I’ll just be careful not to drop the soap. Wouldn’t want to get raped.” 

“Hey!” Techno yelled after him but Aksornpan was already walking off into the steaming shower. Type closed his eyes, his body trembling, and his breathing coming out a little bit more shallowly.

There was a burning inside of him and only part of it was from anger. The other part of it was from shame and embarrassment and this was _exactly_ what he had been fearing and he hadn’t even done anything. All he had done was hang out with Tharn and done one simple live stream and already his team, other than Techno, was starting to turn on him.

He felt ill, but then he opened his eyes and turned back to his locker, grabbing his regular clothes. 

“Ai’Type… are you okay?” Techno asked softly from behind him, actual worry sounding in his voice. 

Type didn’t answer as he pulled the shirt on and removed his soccer shorts only to follow up next with his jeans and sneakers. “I’m going to shower at home.” He told his friend as he slammed his locker shut. 

“Hey, let me come with you.” Techno quickly rifled through his things and began to change. Type was tempted to tell him no, but the more he thought about it, the less he actually wanted to be alone, so he said nothing, instead standing there with his hand tightly holding onto his practice bag as he waited for Techno to finish changing. “I’ll just shower at your place after you.”

He gave a small nod and wordlessly headed out towards the parking lot.

The two of them had driven their own cars that day so Techno told him he’d meet him at his place. Again, Type said nothing, but did give a small noise to signal that he understood and agreed. He then started his silent trip back home, his mind whirling, repeating the words that Aksorpan had hurled at him. 

They really weren’t all that dissimilar to what he had told Kom the other day, to what he had said to people growing up, and he wondered if the people he had said those things to felt like he did now. Felt angry and hurt and sad and disgusted… was this what he had done to people? 

The two of them arrived back at Type’s apartment at fairly the same time and Type led the way up to his place. It was a simple apartment, not nearly as nice as Tharn’s, but not too shabby either. Type didn’t need much however.

He tossed his bag over into a corner and mumbled for Techno to go ahead and shower first because he wasn’t about to have Techno’s sweat all over his place. As Techno did that, Type lowered himself onto the floor in front of his bed (his apartment was a one room studio; Type rather liked it) and pulled out his phone. 

There were no messages except one from his mother wishing him to have a good morning. He quickly texted her back to let her know that he just got home from practice and hoped she was well and how was dad? He then opened up Line and scrolled through before halting on Tharn’s name.

After a moment, he clicked on it. There were barely two dozen messages between them and most of them were just settling times and dates and what they should do. One of them would suggest something and the other would agree to it or disagree and that was it. That was how Type had told Tharn he wanted it to stay. 

_‘hey’_ he sent before he closed out of the app and laid on his side, staring at his phone. It wasn’t even a minute later before it dinged and he blinked, not having expected a reply so quickly. 

  
Type slowly reached for his phone and pulled it towards him.

**_Tharn_ ** _  
_ _whats up?_

_just got back from practice._

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _did it go well?_

_as well as it ever does_ _  
_ _wat r u doing_

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _writing_ _  
_ _a song_ _  
_ _inspiration kinda struck after you left_

_is it a good song?_

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _of course it is! im a great lyricist_

_then y do all of ur songs suck?_

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _um ouch :( ur just joking_ _  
_ _right type?_

_…_

_type_

_type u there?_

_ur joking aren’t you? :(_

_srry i was taking a shower_ _  
_ _u sure are needy for my approval_ _  
_ _dont get enough of it from ur fans or smth?_

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _i do but…_

_but?_

**_Tharn_ ** **_  
_** _my fans aren’t you_

_…_

_asshole_

Type quickly tossed his phone away. His heart was pounding and he had to bite on his lip to fight back the smile. He couldn’t smile. He couldn’t let this get to him. Something like this… fuck, why was it so easy for Tharn to make him feel this way? Why was it so easy for that guy to get his pulse racing and his body hot?

He actually felt a little dizzy. Maybe it was because he’d been running beneath the hot sun for hours. So, in order to fix this, he got up (purposefully leaving his phone on the ground where he had thrown it) and went over to the fridge to grab himself some water (Techno also asked for some but Type told him to get his ass up and get it himself--he knew where the fridge was). 

Even after drinking an entire bottle, Type still felt dizzy and flushed and he knew he had to come to terms with the facts.

It was Tharn that made him feel this way. Only Tharn that made him feel this way.

He had feelings for Tharn. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... TYPE HAS ADMITTED IT TO HIMSELF! I REPEAT! TYPE HAS ADMITTED IT TO HIMSELF!!!


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: This is another DOUBLE update, please make sure to read chapter 16 after this!! And probably the last plural update for awhile but it just felt... wrong to upload chapters on separate days because it's more like a 2 part chapter than 2 separate chapters but... well... you'll see 
> 
> :)

The end of January came quickly in a blaze of fake dates and more live streams and soon turned into February, a concept of which Type was actually nervous about because it was finally the day of their first photoshoot for Consort. 

He wasn’t sure what they were going to have them do, but since the concept was that they were a couple for the sponsorship (this was no more or less than all of the BL actors that pretended to be dating to promote their shows and earn money, really), Type couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be within his comfort zone.

Considering the fact his comfort zone included absolutely no touching with Tharn Kirigun (less the butterflies in his stomach start to overwhelm him and he’d been doing a fairly decent job of not letting that happen since that night he spent at Tharn’s), he highly doubted that would be the case. Not for a perfume featuring them as a couple, a perfume that was also called Consort of all things. 

He wondered on the name a few times, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. With a name like that, there would be no way it would be a wholesome, fully dressed, no touching sort of shoot, right? Type almost wanted to back out, but he had signed a contract allowing anything except things that would do him physical harm or nudity and he wasn’t a quitter anyway, so here he was. Getting ready to see Tharn again.

He hated how much that thought excited him, but at least he’d be seeing him in a professional setting. With people around. Lots of people to see how very not affected he got by the musician. They were just co-workers now, that was it, that was all they would be. Type kept repeating this to himself, hoping maybe at some point he would believe it.

His little revelation that he had actual feelings for Tharn hadn’t gone without quite a bit of denial for the last week and a half since it happened. Maybe work was beginning to spill over into his personal life. He was just mixing the two up--that could happen, it wasn’t unheard of. But it also wasn’t really like the two of them did much other than hang out as friends did. Tharn would pull his camera out, swing his arm around him and tug him close to his chest and it was always very difficult to focus on smiling at the camera when he wanted to watch Tharn’s brilliant smile. 

That smile made his heart flutter and Type kind of wondered how many pictures Tharn now had of himself looking at him rather than at the camera. 

The idea scared him and he decided not to think about it. 

He supposed at least he had accepted the fact he did have feelings. It didn’t mean he had to act on them or anything. Type was actually very determined to ignore them, hoping that they might go away. Maybe he really should go find a girl and get laid.

Type pretended the idea sounded appealing but also knew that he probably wouldn’t do that. He was busy. With… soccer practice and photoshoots with Tharn and stuff. Super busy. 

The place where they were having the photoshoot was a large warehouse turned camera studio. There were at least a dozen cars parked outside and Type wondered how many people it took to do a photoshoot. He glanced over at Champ as he parked (Champ had insisted he come along as his manager and Type really wasn’t one to argue with that logic, perhaps it would help keep him, or at least Tharn, in check anyway). Champ gave him a warm smile and told him he could do this. Type pretended to believe him and stepped out of the car.

His hands felt a little sweaty so he wiped them against his jeans and headed towards the entrance of the warehouse (studio…).

There were at least two dozen people inside and Type suddenly realized why so many people were needed for a photoshoot. There were lighting operators, assistants, the photographer himself, people from the cologne company, a lawyer or two, more assistants, caterers setting up a delicious looking table of food over in a corner, costume people, make-up artists, and of course Tharn and his manager P’San who had already arrived and was sitting at a table with a make-up artist looking perfectly at home as he scrolled through his phone. 

He was used to this. 

“Good, you’re here just on time!” said the lady from the cologne company whose name escaped Type and he was pretty sure that he should probably do a better job at remembering things like the company name. Or her name for that matter. “We’re going to go ahead and get your make-up on and costume and we’ll talk you through the poses and the setting and the emotion that you should try to convey. Well, the photographer will. He’s better at that than I am.” She laughed and Type just gave a sort of smile that was clearly forced, but she said nothing as she took his arm (he had to fight to tug himself away) and pulled him over to the make-up artists. 

She rambled on, but Type couldn’t help not listening as he got closer to where he was getting his make-up done. Tharn seemed to have noticed he’d come in and set down his phone, looking up with that smile that almost felt as if it was reserved only for him. 

This was the first time that Type had seen Tharn with make-up on and he looked flawless. He seemed to almost shine, all of his imperfections hidden. Just looking at him caused a wild fluttering in his heart to stutter his movements before he caught himself and finished the few steps over.

Though, he had to admit, he much preferred the natural Tharn. The one where Type could see his imperfections, and admire them anyway.

He was growing too soft. 

“Hey, Type.” Tharn smiled, and it wasn’t that toothy grin that he gave when he was teasing him, but a pure, genuine smile that let Type know that yeah, Tharn really was happy to see him again. 

Type just lifted his hand in a sort of half wave, scared that if he were to open his mouth to speak at the moment his voice would crack and Tharn would realize that he had feelings for him and he just… couldn’t handle that right now. 

Someone pressed their hands down into his shoulders, pushing him down into a chair and all at once, someone began to work on his face, wiping it clean as they spoke about how good his skin was and how thick his hair was and he was pretty sure he was turning red because Tharn laughed and it was such a musical sound (appropriate for a musician) that Type turned even redder. The make-up artist mused about this and Type took a few deep breaths, giving Tharn a harsh glare before he forcibly calmed himself down. 

Note to self, blushing while getting make-up applied just made sitting in the make-up chair take even longer. 

Before he was even finished getting make-up applied, Tharn was already being swept away and over to costuming. Type couldn’t help but frown a little, already feeling a lot more uncomfortable without the familiar face by his side. Soon he was being attacked by a hair stylist, but they didn’t seem to want to touch his hair all too much, saying that it was already full and beautiful and damn, was all these compliments a requirement of working in a place like this? 

Things got a little more interesting when he was taken over to costuming just as Tharn was apparently trying on his third shirt. The costumer wanted to get the look just right. Tharn smiled again at him as he buttoned (unbuttoned?) the dress shirt he wore. The costumer told him to stop after the third button, leaving more than half open and exposing Tharn’s chest. 

Type’s eyes zeroed in on that before he turned his head away and took the clothes that were being handed to him. 

Unlike Tharn’s dark blue shirt, Type’s was white and much too big for him and he was going to point this out to the costumer, but they seemed to realize this already and thought he looked absolutely perfect in the oversized dress shirt that ended almost at Type’s knees and that’s when he realized what exactly was supposed to be the look for this and felt himself turning red for at least the third time since walking into the warehouse. 

“You look good.” He heard a murmur in his ear, the breath hot and he quickly glanced around to his left to see Tharn standing so close to him that Type could feel his body heat. It almost overwhelmed him and he clutched the oversized shirt a bit more closed, trying to save some form of modesty and dignity for himself. 

“Of course I do.” Type replied after taking a moment to make sure that his voice wouldn’t crack. Tharn didn’t say anything else but just continued to smile at him. The butterflies were getting worse. Now they weren’t only in his stomach but also in his chest and he could feel them trying to make their way up to his throat. 

This really wasn’t good. 

Once they were done changing, they were taken over to the set where a field of black velvet and silk met them. To Type, this felt like some sort of porn shoot and he really hoped that he hadn’t been tricked because he was not doing that, no matter what the contract said. 

“We’re going to start off simple. I want the muscled hunk on the pillow and the small one sitting on his left thigh with your body angled just a bit out towards the camera.” Type assumed he was the small one and scowled, not appreciating the lack of using his actual name, but Tharn was already settling amongst the dark fabrics and damn, he looked good.

Too good. It made it difficult for Type to walk over, hesitating for a moment before slowly settling down between Type’s legs and then on his thigh. 

It was awkward and Type wasn’t sure where to put his legs. Tharn had to grab hold of him to keep him from stumbling off of his thigh and then helped adjust himself. Type could feel the skipping of his heart and tightened his hand around Tharn’s wrist as he held him steady.

“You okay?” Tharn actually looked a little concerned. Type wondered why. 

“I’m fine.” He murmured, even though he really kind of wasn’t. Being so close to Tharn like this with so many people around was uncomfortable, but he kept telling himself this was a job. It was a photoshoot. He had done these before. Of course, they were never like this, normally they took place in a gym or outside on the actual field, but he could do this. 

“Okay,” The photographer said again, sounding more like a director than any other photographer Type had ever seen. “Muscled hunk, you’re going to hold out small one’s arm and act like you’re applying the perfume to his arm. Sit however is comfortable and natural, just keep on his thigh small one, and I’ll do the rest. I also want you to look at each other. Stare into each other’s eyes. This isn’t about love so don’t think about love. This is about lust and passion. Pretend that you want to tear each other’s clothes off and bask in each other. That’s what this is about.”

Tharn’s eyes had darkened a little through the instruction and not once had he looked away from Type. Type shifted on Tharn’s thigh, biting down on his lip before catching himself and instead pursing them. He gave a nod that he understood.

And then they started. 

It was actually a lot more tiring than Type had expected it to be. 

When they first began, Type had felt so embarrassed and stiff from the embarrassment that the shots weren’t coming out good. It’s not that he had to act, because (if he were honest with himself) he really didn’t. The urge to tear Tharn’s clothes off was there, he was just trying to ignore it. And then he just got plain uncomfortable. Sitting on someone’s lap for so long caused his butt to ache so they ended up having to take a break for a few minutes so that Type could stretch and Tharn could regain some circulation in his leg. 

It was awkward and he avoided Tharn at all cost, practically zooming away whenever he saw Tharn come near him. He managed to succeed until they were told they would continue the photoshoot.

Type decided that, in order to get through this and get it over with, he really needed to commit so once they were settled down with Type on Tharn’s thigh once more, he pretended that there weren’t others there. They weren’t at a photoshoot and no one is watching.

It was surprisingly easy to forget that they weren’t alone.

In the back of his mind, he could hear the instructions and he followed them as well as he could. It would be a lie to say he was a natural at this or it came out as well as whatever Tharn was doing, but he could easily feel in the moment. Once the photographer was satisfied with that, they moved onto the next pose which consisted of Type sitting in between Tharn’s legs, pressed directly up against Tharn’s chest. 

Tharn was to stare at the camera, perfume box held loosely in his hand in clear view of the camera, and Type was to stare up at Tharn, eyes lidded. Type didn’t really need the directing for this, his eyes naturally falling as he stared at the man behind him.

It was an opportunity to let himself admire without the judgement of others. He was just doing his job, after all. He leaned back into the chest of the person that held him, finding himself relaxing as Tharn’s arms tightened around him. 

This felt so natural that Type for a moment forgot it was a pose.

The instruction of the director was distant and Type kinda didn’t want to listen to what he was saying so instead he leaned forward, following his instinct to press his lips to Tharn’s neck. He was just acting for the camera anyway. But Tharn stiffened for a moment and Type wondered if he had done wrong before Tharn relaxed again and Type felt a hand slide along his bare thigh. 

Compliments were being hurled at them, the sound of the camera flashing heavy in the room. He could feel the eyes of dozens of people watching and wondered for a brief moment what they thought before deciding he kind of didn’t actually care. 

Things continued like this for awhile longer, different poses coming and going as Type got more comfortable with doing these sorts of things in front of the camera. It was a lie to say that it wasn’t affecting him, but it also felt nice to just go along with it. 

In a way, it felt right.


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is a DOUBLE update! If you haven't read chapter 15, please read that one first!

Tharn wasn’t really sure what the hell was going on.

He was dizzy, but not in the way a person was dizzy when they were sick, or overheated, or lacked water. No, he was dizzy in the way that his mind just couldn’t catch up with whatever was happening. 

When he and Type had started the photoshoot, he had been sure he’d be taking the lead, talking Type through things, assuring him that this was just work and in no way was he going to let it affect their growing friendship. And he would’ve meant this. He was completely prepared to set aside the feelings he had for Type for this one day, knowing that Type would be very clearly uncomfortable with whatever it was they were told to do.

And, at first, this was the case. At first, Type hadn’t been sure what to do. He’d been stiff and blushing and obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable and the photographer hadn’t been happy and the girl from the company was looking worried. Was this going to work? Had they made a wrong choice? It seemed they had remembered that Type was an athlete and not a person accustomed to these sorts of proceedings.

So they had taken a break. Tharn had wanted to talk to Type and tell him it was okay, just relax and take it slow, but it almost seemed like every time he finally made his way over to Type, Type would find that he needed to be somewhere else. Likely, he was doing this on purpose, so eventually he gave up and just let it be and they were back on set.

And that’s when things took a turn.

It was as if Type had gotten a sudden confidence boost. He was taking the lead and making moves and staring at him with those eyes and it was hard to keep Tharn’s emotions in check. He was trying but Type was so close and so warm and so pretty that all Tharn wanted to do was lower him onto his back and kiss away all the gloss applied to his lips.

It was extremely difficult to not do that. 

So by the time lunch came around, Tharn was dizzy and needed the break. And he needed the break away from Type because if Type so much as came a foot near him, Tharn was pretty sure his hold would snap and he’d push him against the wall and kiss the life out of him. Luckily for him, Type didn’t try to approach him, instead sitting over in a corner with his manager and Tharn was more than content to just watch from a distance and try to control the musings about what could and would happen if the two of them were alone in a room together.

There would be no holding himself back. At all. 

He barely even noticed when P’San sat next to him, looking stiff faced and as if he wished he could be anywhere else. That didn’t really surprise Tharn at all. 

“Having fun?” His manager and long time friend asked and Tharn glanced over before picking up his sandwich to nibble at it without an answer. Maybe it was rude, but did it really need a reply. “Okay, I get it. I have no right to ask.”

“Mm,” he hummed his agreement, giving P’San another side-eye before shrugging. “It’s fine. It’s just work. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He could feel the burning of the gaze on the side of his face and he stiffened just a little as P’San raised his arm to lay against the back of his chair. It wasn’t like the other was going to try anything. He was respectful of Tharn’s boundaries, but he could sense the possessiveness coming off of him in droves and it made him a little hesitant. They were friends, Tharn respected him. P’San was his brother’s best friend. They had a history. He was also his manager. 

It was a complicated mix of relationships.

“You should be careful, Tharn.” There was actual worry lining the edge of P’San’s voice and it made Tharn relax a little bit and he pushed his plate away from him, leaning back into the chair to turn to look at the other. “You fall so easily. I’m worried about you. A guy like that? Is bound to break your heart. And I don’t want to see it get broken again.” 

Tharn licked over his lips with a small sigh, glancing down at his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t know. It wasn’t that P’San didn’t have a point, because he did. He had a huge point. He had the biggest point of all points. Tharn did fall easily. He’d fallen for Type without ever even meeting him and now that he knew him? Now that they were friends and colleagues? It made everything that much more worse because he was actually getting to know Type and beneath that rough, harsh exterior, Tharn found that he liked what he was getting to know.

He liked the bratty attitude. It was cute and endearing in a way. Type was almost like a child in the body of a fully grown man. His personality begged to be pampered and on their ‘dates’, that’s what Tharn found himself doing. Pampering him. He enjoyed it. Tharn had always enjoyed taking care of his lovers. He wasn’t sure if Type realized it, but that was kind of how Tharn saw their relationship. Without being actual lovers. 

But he always ended up hurt. Everyone left him for one reason or another. It had always made Tharn wonder what was wrong with him, and P’San was always there to see it, see him as his heart was turned into fine dust over and over again. 

And Type could so easily do that someday. Tharn knew this himself. He didn’t need P’San’s warning about it. 

“Thanks, P’San.” He decided to say instead of telling him what was really on his mind. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t be so rude to the person who had taken such good care of him over the last ten years. 

A call to return to shooting came and P’San moved his arm away. Tharn took in a breath and mentally prepared himself for whatever was going to come next.

That amount of preparation wasn’t nearly enough. 

Somehow the direction had taken an even more… lustful turn. Lustful was the only word that Tharn could think to describe it. Type had been told to move to his knees and begin to slowly push Tharn’s shirt from his shoulders. Tharn wondered where the perfume came into all of this, but the thought was only a fleeting musing because how was he to concentrate when Type was literally leaning over him, looking at him as if were going to suddenly put his head in his lap and well--

Tharn wouldn’t say no if that were to happen, but he’d prefer to do it where no one else could see Type’s expressions or sounds of pleasure. He’d like to keep those to himself. 

At some point, Type placed his hand on his bare chest and to say that Tharn’s body wasn’t reacting would be a bold face lie. It was reacting way too much and only the knowledge that other people were there, in the room, watching and filming this was what kept him from reacting just a little bit too much. 

How was Type so seeming comfortable with this? What had gotten into him to flip this switch somewhere that was apparently buried within him? He hadn’t seen this side of Type. A seducer. Not even when they’d had sex on New Years did he see this confident, sensual Type that he was witnessing now. 

He could barely even react and he wondered if he was showing up even half as well as Type was on camera. It almost felt like Type was challenging him, in a way.

So he squared himself. If Type wanted a challenge, Tharn could give him one. 

Type held the bottle of perfume in one of his hands so Tharn felt comfortable sliding his arm around the other’s waist, tugging him flush against him as he slid a hand up into the thick brown hair. He leaned their heads together, breathing in deeply as the photographer shouted his praises. 

They were both on their knees in a way that was reminiscent of that American movie Dirty Dancing, the scene where Johnny and Baby were having their dance lesson. Tharn couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like to do a thing like that with Type, but maybe this was their version of it.

He then laid Type out on the black, velvet cloth that covered the expanse of their shooting area. Tharn rested himself above him, Type’s hand on his arm, still holding the bottle, and Tharn’s arms down by the side of his head.

Type was staring at him, eyes a little wide and lips that were still so perfectly glossed parted. They were so close that Tharn could feel his breath on his face, could hear it in his ears and he blinked his eyes. Type tilted his head back a little, exposing his neck and eyelids lowering so that his lashes brushed his cheek and Tharn was noticing every single detail. 

There was a freckle on Type’s neck and Tharn slowly leaned down, just barely hovering his lips above that spot. He wanted nothing more than to kiss it and it was difficult to control himself. Somehow he managed and then brought his arm down, slowly dragging it along Type’s side to stop on Type’s thigh.

Somewhere, he could hear the photographer shouting something, something about one last big pose and then they’d be done for the day. Tharn pulled up just a little bit to look at Type’s face, the glossiness obvious in his eyes and he couldn’t help himself anymore.

Tharn leaned down and pressed his lips to Type’s. 

It was as if the surrounding area melted away as they kissed. It wasn’t even anything more than a simple kiss really, not even any movement but just a press. But it burned him from the outside in, starting at the touch of skin and traveling all the way down to the tips of his toes, even to the follicles of hair that littered his head. 

And then something amazing happened. Type kissed back.

He barely puckered his lips, but it was there. Tharn could feel it, feel everything, every little movement and he knew the feeling of being kissed back. The way the pressure felt against his lips, how Type raised his head just the tiniest centimeter… Tharn was being kissed back.

And then Tharn was shooting backwards, raising up onto his knees and breathing heavily as he heard the photographer tell them that was good and they had everything they needed. Type was still laying there but now his eyes were wide as a deer’s and he was leaning on his forearms and just staring at him, as if wondering what the hell they had just done.

Tharn couldn’t blame himself because he was wondering it as well. 

“Tharn--” Type began and Tharn could slowly see him pushing himself up to sit normally. Tharn felt a rising panic in his chest and quickly stood from where he sat so that Type’s head snapped up to look at him.

“Uh,” he rubbed at his neck and averted his eyes, avoiding looking at the other man at all. “I have to--that was great. I’m going to--” he didn’t finish his sentence, instead scurrying away to lock himself into the bathroom. Which is exactly what he did. 

He locked the cubicle door behind himself and slammed his head backwards against it, eyes closed tightly and chest rapidly rising and falling as if he’d run a marathon. He felt like he’d run a marathon.

Tharn couldn’t believe he had lost control over himself that way. He couldn’t believe that he had actually kissed Type. On camera. During a photoshoot that would be aired--what had he been thinking?! 

Type was never going to speak to him again, that was for sure, not unless it involved work, and maybe even then. Maybe Type would back out and Tharn couldn’t really blame him. He had just crossed the one boundary that he had promised himself he wouldn’t. He knew Type wasn’t mentally prepared for a relationship with a man, Type had told him so. But he’d gone and kissed him anyway. And now Type would never speak to him again.

He had just lost Type as a friend all because he couldn’t control his damn lust. And the feeling of losing Type as a friend was worse than the feeling that he and Type would only ever be friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha
> 
> n e ways :)


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Double update! Please read chapter 18 afterwards!!
> 
> So I was re-reading this chapter and I was like "... I can't just leave them with just this chapter! It's so slow-moving, gotta give more". And when I say slow-moving, it's on purpose... you'll see what I mean ;) Anyway, enjoy these 2 chapters!!

Type watched as Tharn ran off to the bathroom, his pulse pounding so hard that he could actually feel his skin moving over the artery in his neck. He was at a loss for what to do. He could barely even manage to push himself up off of the velvety surface of the ground because he was too busy thinking about what the hell had just happened.

Tharn had kissed him.

He’d just been doing his job, trying to make sure that the pictures came out well and yeah, sure, maybe he had let the fact that Tharn was next to him looking like that affect him a bit too much. Maybe he had gone a little bit too far with some of the poses, but he didn’t think they’d been that bad. He hadn’t expected Tharn to suddenly kiss him.

And he certainly hadn’t expected himself to kiss him back. In front of people at that. Again.

Most of the staff seemed to think it really was just for the shoot. They were giddy over it, of course, but didn’t really seem to think much else of it, but he could sense that Champ just knew the truth as he walked over, water bottle in hand.

He held the bottle out to Type and Type took it without a word, downing half the bottle in just a few gulps. Champ didn’t say anything about the kiss which Type was thankful for, but he fully expected to be having a conversation later when they were alone. He wondered which hat Champ would bring out; manager or friend.

Type knew which he would prefer. 

He wanted to go talk to Tharn, but here, around all these people, it didn’t seem like that great of an idea. And before he could even decide whether he wanted to do it now or later he saw Tharn’s manager, P’San, follow him inside the bathroom. He’d lost his chance and now he didn’t know what to do. The staff was wrapping up, packing things away and there really wasn’t much excuse for him to stay. Maybe he could talk to him later.

Type slowly headed back over to the costuming area, grabbing his clothes and changing back into them behind the curtain they had set up. Normally it would take barely a minute for him to change, but he dragged it out, peeking his head around the curtain in order to see if Tharn would be exiting the bathroom in order to give Type a chance to ambush him and ask him ‘what the hell’. 

But he was finished before the door to the bathroom opened and he knew he couldn’t really wait around. It wouldn’t be fair to Champ and Type wasn’t sure what he would even say anyways so he slowly followed his manager and friend out of the studio and back towards the car.

The sun was setting low over the horizon, casting an orange and pink glow across the land. He wished Tharn was there to see it too. 

Type pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, slowly walking towards the car as he posted the picture to instagram, with a simple emoji caption and nothing else. He then pushed his phone into his pocket and climbed into Champ’s car.

There was a silence that filled it as Champ started it up and Type leaned on his hand to look out of the window. He felt weird, weirder than he probably ever had before. There was a strange uneasiness washing over him, like something had just changed, but he couldn’t figure out what that thing was. 

“How do you feel?” Champ asked once they were on the highway. 

He pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair, giving a quick glance over at the other. It was the friend hat. Type was thankful. 

“Confused.” He said honestly and closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted and wanting to sleep. “Confused about how much…” he hesitated, scraping his nails along his jeans before flattening his hand out and taking in a deep breath. “Confused about how not mad I am.”

It was true. He wasn’t mad and that almost kind of… bothered him a little? Anger had always been his default emotion when he didn’t know what to feel, but he felt none of that now. He just wanted to know what Tharn had been thinking, why he had done that. Did Tharn… have feelings for him too? Maybe it was a stupid question, but to Type it wasn’t. Type was absolutely awful so only a crazy person could have those sorts of emotions for him. Was Tharn crazy? 

But the idea of Tharn having actual feelings for him, and not just wanting to spend the night with him, gave him butterflies that fluttered not only in his stomach but throughout his entire body, using his veins as streams of wind. Or maybe he was confusing that too and Tharn had kissed him out of lust. It was quite a lustful photoshoot, afterall. 

Deep down he knew though; that hadn’t been a lustful kiss. Despite what was happening around them, despite the fact Tharn literally had him on the floor, his hand on his thigh, shirt off and Type’s himself open at the chest, it hadn’t been lustful. It hadn’t been a passionate kiss that hungered for sex. It’d been… just a kiss. A simple press of the lips, yet it had done things to Type. It had made him forget where he was and what he was doing, because the only thing that mattered was that he was there with Tharn.

It was an overwhelming emotion that embodied his entire self and he didn’t know how to handle it, what to do, who to turn to for advice. He felt too ashamed to go to Kom, too embarrassed to go to Techno. He had no siblings, he definitely wasn’t going to talk to his parents about this. The only other person he could even think of talking to about it was sitting right next to him and he wasn’t sure how he felt about sharing something so intimate. He and Champ were friends and had been for a long time, but they weren’t those sort of friends. 

He and Champ weren’t like he and Techno or he and Kom. They hung out, drank, talked about girls and soccer and movies and that was it. They didn’t share their feelings and both of them seemed to prefer it that way, so what was Type supposed to do? He was truly at a loss.

“Whatever you want,” Champ began as he took the exit off the highway towards Type’s house rather than towards the restaurants like they had originally planned. He seemed to sense that Type wanted to be alone for now. “It’s okay.”

Type turned his head, looking towards him with a slight blink, but no reply. It was such a simple statement, one that didn’t assume anything, but offered a strange comfort to Type, somehow easing his mind about the whole ordeal. He felt thankful.

Once he had been dropped off at his apartment, Type made his way into his room and collapsed onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling, unsure of how long he lay there, but by the time he moved again, it was completely dark outside. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes, the day’s work having exhausted him to the point that he didn’t even want to eat, despite how hungry he was.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing eight. He’d been laying in bed for about an hour.

Type pouted a little and crossed his legs after pulling his phone from his pocket and staring at his lockscreen. It was a picture of his parents on their latest anniversary. He smiled and lightly stroked his thumb down the screen. He missed them.

With a soft sigh, he punched in his code and opened up Line, scrolling until he found his chat with Tharn. After a brief hesitation, he opened it up and typed: 

_Can we talk?_

He stared at his message for what felt like forever, but really was only a minute or two before closing out of the chat. Staring at it wouldn’t make Tharn reply any faster and he tossed his phone down onto a pillow before getting up to stretch.

Type needed to eat something.

He went over to the fridge and opened it. It was mostly empty except for some old rice that was probably about to go bad. He pulled it out and looked it over cautiously before deciding it was probably still good and he was too hungry to really care anyway so he heated it up and then settled back down on the bed with his bowl of rice and a glass of water.

He checked his phone. No reply. 

Type ate slowly, staring at his phone’s screen the entire time but pretending even to himself that he wasn’t. It took him much longer to eat than normal and by the time he was done it was almost 8:30 and still no reply. He slowly got up and washed his dish, hesitating for a moment before heading into the bathroom to shower.

He took his time, enjoying the hot water that fell onto his skin, washing off all the sweat that had accumulated from being beneath those hot lights and on that black velvet. When he was done, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went to go collapse back onto his bed.

Type stared at it for a moment before opening it.

No response. 

It hadn’t even been read. 

He glanced at the clock. It was after nine already. He’d sent the text over an hour ago. Tharn normally replied back within minutes to his messages, no matter what, even if it was just a smiley face. 

Type decided he disliked the feeling of being ignored and huffed, pulling his towel off and grabbing his underwear and sweats as well as a t-shirt and tugged them on before climbing beneath his covers and grabbing his phone with a deep frown and a crease between his eyebrows. 

Couldn’t Tharn at least read the damn thing? 

Well, whatever. If Tharn didn’t want to talk to him then Type wasn’t going to worry about it. What did it matter anyway? It wasn’t as if Type was the most important thing in the world. Maybe Tharn was busy. Maybe he had something going on and couldn’t reply to his message right now. Type wasn’t the center of his world, the be all end all and he didn’t expect to be. Not at all. 

It sounded like a lie even to himself and he groaned, rolling over onto his back and thrusting a pillow over his own face in order to suffocate himself. 

Somehow he fell asleep like that, but it was a fitful sleep. One that lacked rest and Type tossed and turned and at some point during the night, he even fell out of the bed with a groan and probably a bruised butt. He decided to just lay there because it was a fitting end to his night and that was how he felt.

And Tharn still hadn’t read his message and it was 2am and surely there had been at least a free moment in Tharn’s night that he could’ve read Type’s message? 

Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe Type had misread and misconstrued the entire thing. Maybe Tharn really had just kissed him for the shoot and then ran off to the bathroom because he actually had to use the bathroom. Maybe he’d eaten some bad sushi--Type didn’t know. It could be any number of reasons.

So he decided he’d try to sleep again and just not worry about it. If Tharn wanted to talk to him about it, then he’d talk to him about it. Type would stop worrying, stop thinking too much. Why was he even thinking about this anyway? Sure, he had feelings for Tharn, but he wasn’t ready to do anything with that. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to do anything with that.

He could barely handle knowing about them as it was.

The next morning when Type finally woke up, his bedside clock blinked nine twenty-three AM and Type jumped out of bed and grabbed his soccer gear as quickly as he could. He was late for practice and that was just not good and it definitely meant that he’d be running extra laps. He tossed whatever it was he needed in his bag, making sure he had his practice uniform, his cleats, anything else of minor importance he might need including his water bottle. 

It wasn’t until he was at practice that he realized he’d forgotten his phone in bed and hadn’t even gotten to check to see if Tharn had replied to him yet. 

He had.

**Tharn**  
_Can u meet me at my apartment at 1?_  
_we can go to lunch. my treat._  
_and talk_

By the time Type saw it, it was already 5pm and he was too late.


	19. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: This is a DOUBLE update! Please read chapter 17 first if you haven't!

The door to the bathroom creaked up and slow footsteps walked in, causing Tharn to stiffen up just a little. Was that Type? Had he followed him in? He both wished he had and also hoped that he didn’t. His worry was put to ease only a moment later when he heard P’San call out his name, and then it was followed up by disappointment. 

He hadn’t really wanted to talk to him, already knowing what he would probably say. Something along the lines of what he had said earlier, that Type wasn’t good for him, he shouldn’t let his emotions take him over, Type was going to break his heart, he was doing it again--what he always did. He always let himself fall so deeply and so fast and it always backfired and Tharn knew this already. He knew it. He didn’t need to hear it from P’San for the umpteenth time. 

But he allowed it anyway because this was P’San. He respected him. They had a history. It was just what he did, what they did. So, after taking a moment to compose himself, Tharn opened the door to his cubicle and leaned against it, staring a bit helplessly at P’San who just raised his eyebrows and then sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Tharn--” There it was. Tharn could hear the beginnings of a lecture and also the start of a migraine. “What are you doing? Didn’t we just have this conversation?”

He leaned his head against the frame of the door and looked down at his feet, realizing that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. In a public bathroom. He groaned. 

“I know. We had this talk. I heard what you said. I get it. I get it better than you do, P’.” Tharn assured, his voice a little impatient. Normally, he didn’t get so impatient with P’San, but he was sick of hearing it. First from Lhong and repeatedly from P’San, nobody trusted him to make his own decisions.

Maybe there was a reason for that though. Tharn kept screwing up.

He shouldn’t have approached Type at the New Years party. He shouldn’t have kissed him. He shouldn’t have brought him to his hotel room. He shouldn’t have asked him on a date on live fucking television. He shouldn’t have gone through with this stupid sponsorship and fake dating Type. And he shouldn’t have kissed him again out there during the photoshoot. He shouldn’t have done any of it.

Yet he did it. And he kept doing it. He kept pushing boundaries and making wrong choices and falling head over heels for this guy who was never going to be interested in him that way, whether because he couldn’t or didn’t want to, it didn’t matter because he wouldn’t. Type had said as much. Even if there was an attraction there (and there was. Tharn could sense it and Type had admitted it!), that didn’t mean anything. 

Type was stuck. He was confused and struggling and could barely get a handle on any of it and jumping into a relationship with the first man he was with well… that probably wasn’t such a great idea. And when Tharn thought about it, really thought about it, even he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle something like that. What it would mean to be with a person like Type.

But he still couldn’t help himself. He wanted Type. Despite his better judgement. 

“Why don’t we go out for a drink?” P’San offered. Tharn hesitated for a moment before sighing and nodding. He could use one, after all this. 

“Sure just… give me a moment.” He went back into the cubicle and quickly used the restroom. When he was finished he washed his hands and, trying to ignore P’San standing by the door watching him, washed off his face as if he were cleansing away all of his troubles. 

He quickly went back out to change, glancing around but Type was already gone. It was probably for the better anyway. Once he was done changing, he walked back over to P’San who held out his hand. He looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression.

“What?” Tharn questioned, confused. 

“Your phone.” P’San clarified, extending his arm even more. “We’re turning that thing off so that you can relax. You need it. No looking at your phone. No worrying about texts or calls or articles or any of that stuff tonight.”

Tharn hesitated. What if Type--? He shook his head and pulled his phone out. P’San was right. He needed a night away, a night to clear his mind of what he had just done and if Type were to message him (a big if), it was surely to tell him that he never wanted to talk again and Tharn didn’t think he could handle that at the moment. 

So he pulled out his phone and handed it to P’San who shut it off and stuffed it into his own pocket to hold. He then took Tharn’s arm and led him out of the room and to his car.

They ended up at a familiar bar that Tharn had frequented before they hit it big the last few years. A friend, P’Jeed, ran the place with her husband and Tharn had some of the fondest memories there. He was thankful that P’San remembered this place, knowing instinctively that this was as close to home as any bar could get. It made Tharn feel just that much more comfortable.

The two of them drank. Mostly, it was Tharn drinking. P’San stuck to a couple of beers and that was all because he had to drive, but Tharn kept taking the stronger drinks and soon enough he was feeling quite the buzz and barely aware of how the time passed as P’San pulled him out to dance. 

Was it appropriate to get drunk and dance with your band manager? Probably not, but P’San was so much more than that. He’d known him so long. He was friends with Tharn’s brother Thorn (who Tharn really needed to make an effort to go see, him and his younger sister Thanya) and P’San had really looked after him when he was fourteen and awkward and being bullied by the bigger kids.

P’San was so cool. He loved music and was good at it and helped him alot along that line and things had kind of just… led places and next thing he knew, P’San had been kissing him in the music room that they had snuck into (because Tharn was a middle schooler and not supposed to be wandering about the high school grounds, but P’San hadn’t seemed to care when he snuck him in). 

Tharn had been confused back then, unsure of who he was or what he liked. P’San had helped. He’d also made him more confused because while the kissing was nice and all, something felt wrong about it as well. Especially when things got to the sex part. That had felt all sorts of wrong. Tharn had just figured he wasn’t meant to be a bottom.

That was what he still thought. 

He didn’t know what time it was by the time that P’San got him back to his room, but he knew the other guy was struggling a bit with his weight. Back when Tharn had been fourteen, he’d been small, and sure, a little bit chubby but P’San had been eighteen and could easily maneuver him. Now Tharn had caught up in size and width and was much heavier, so it was much more difficult to carry a drunken Tharn, but P’San must’ve managed because Tharn felt the softness of his bed as he was gently dropped down onto it.

He groaned and tried to roll over to sleep but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“You need to get out of these clothes first, you smell.” Said the person. P’San, wasn’t it? It had to be because as far as Tharn knew, there was no one else in his room. What was P’San doing there anyway? Oh, right, helping him. 

“Don’t wanna…” He grumbled, reaching up to grab a pillow to stick beneath his head and closed his eyes. He heard a sigh and then heard footsteps walking out of the room. Tharn wiggled himself on the bed, getting a bit more comfortable before a few moments later he heard the sound of someone walking back into his room.

The person grabbed his hand and stuck something cold into it and he blinked his eyes open, taking a moment for his vision to settle before he saw he was holding a bottle of water. He smacked his lips. Water did sound nice… 

“Drink.” Well, he didn’t have to be told twice.

Tharn struggled with uncapping the bottle, but after a moment got it open and began to down the water. “Slowly.” Said the voice sternly and Tharn listened, sipping at it instead of chugging it. When he had finished half the bottle, he decided that was enough for now and put the cap back on and set it aside. 

“Think you can get your clothes off now, Tharn?” P’San asked from above him.

He hummed and then shook his head. Nope. Still too tired. 

“Of course…” there was another sigh and then a brief moment before he felt fingers at the front of his pants. He looked up at P’San, watching him carefully as he worked and then lifted his hips to give some sort of help as P’San began tugging them off. Tharn had to admit that it did feel better to have those tight jeans off of his body. 

He felt the bed dip next to him and then fingers brush in through his hair. It felt kind of nice so he let it happen, though a part of him said that he really shouldn’t, but he wasn’t sure why he shouldn’t so he didn’t listen to it. 

“You know I still love you, don’t you, Tharn?” P’San murmured, so quietly that Tharn could barely hear it but he did hear it and even in his drunken state he knew this was a turn of events that they didn’t really need. 

“P’San…” Tharn sighed and rolled back over onto his back, pushing him up onto his forearms as he looked tiredly up at his friend and manager. “You shouldn’t…” But he didn’t know what to say, the words not forming in his alcohol riddled brain.

“Hey,” P’San said lightly, fingers still stroking through his hair and it felt really nice. So nice that Tharn’s eyes were starting to get heavy and he was pretty sure he could fall asleep like this. He wanted to fall asleep like this. “It’s okay. You know I just care about you, don’t you?”

“Mm, I know.” He said, wondering if the words even came out because he was barely moving his lips. He fought the tiredness however and pushed himself into sitting up completely, looking at the other. 

And P’San looked at him and their eyes met and Tharn suddenly felt like that fourteen year old boy in the music classroom and felt a little funny. Not the good kind of funny either. He felt vaguely ill and wondered if the alcohol was about to make him vomit, but before he could get up to rush to the bathroom, P’San was moving in and then their lips were touching, P’San’s hand clasping at his arm, keeping him in place. 

It was almost muscle memory how Tharn’s lips moved back against P’San’s. It had to be because Tharn knew kissing back was a bad idea and once his body caught up to his brain, he pressed his hand to P’San’s chest and moved his head away, wondering if he looked as troubled as he felt. 

“P’San…” he said, trying to think up words as he blinked and wiped at his mouth, trying to ignore the hurt look that P’San suddenly held on his face. “This isn’t… I can’t… I don’t have feelings for you like that, P’San. I’ve never had those feelings for you.”

Maybe it was a little harsh, but it seemed to do the trick because P’San suddenly stood from the bed, looking incredibly awkward as if he had realized what he had just done--which was something so completely inappropriate as Tharn’s manager that it was almost unfathomable under normal circumstances. 

“Tharn, I’m so sorry--” the other said quickly, looking honestly apologetic. “I really shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I did that.”

Tharn just looked at him and then closed his eyes, feeling suddenly much too sober to handle this, ironically. “I know. It’s fine.” But it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all and he knew this and P’San knew this and it just--wasn’t fine. “You should go. I’m tired. I want to sleep.” He didn’t look up at him, instead staring down at his feet and the hardwood beneath them. 

“I--okay. I’ll see you, okay?” Tharn just gave a slow, single nod in response and didn’t look up until he heard the front door close.

With a sigh, he looked up and over at the clock on his bedside. It was nearing 3:30am and Tharn suddenly felt exhausted. He glanced around himself and saw that P’San at some point had left his phone on the bed and he quickly turned it on and opened up Line, seeing exactly what he hoped he would see.

**Type**   
_Can we talk?_

It had been sent hours ago. 

Tharn took in a breath and thought for a moment. It was late, he was exhausted from both work and from his night out, and now mentally exhausted from what had just happened with P’San. He’d likely sleep in quite late. 

He replied.

_Can u meet me at my apartment at 1?_   
_we can go to lunch. my treat._   
_and talk_

-

It was 1pm and Tharn had never received an answer to his text. Type wasn’t coming. Even though he had been the one to originally suggest the meeting, but Type hadn’t even looked at his text. Had he seen it? Was everything okay? Tharn couldn’t help but worry, couldn’t help but want to send a million texts asking if he was okay. He wished he had Type’s manager’s number, or that friend of his, the other soccer player, what was his name? Techno? Just to check.

He tried to go about his regular day, which pretty much consisted of sitting around writing or watching television, but he couldn’t really concentrate; too busy wondering about Type.

Just when he was about to take to the internet in search of his manager’s (who he remembered was named Champ) phone number at around 5pm however, his phone buzzed and he quickly looked up, seeing a text from Type.

**Type**   
_omg im so srry!_   
_i woke up late 4 practice and i forgot my phone_   
_so i just saw ur message_   
_can we make a raincheck?_

Tharn felt an overwhelming sense of relief that Type was okay, so much so that he actually let out an audible breath and felt his heart leap that Type had really just forgotten his phone. It was actually so cute that it made Tharn smile. He then caught himself and bit his lip. Nope. He had already decided what he was going to do and there would be no more giddy Tharn about how adorable Type was. No more of that. 

He sent a message back.

_r u free now?_   
_come to my place. lets have dinner_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, P'San...


	20. Chapter 19

Type had decided to tell Tharn. About his feelings that is. Yeah. He wasn’t sure yet what he wanted to do about them, what he expected from telling Tharn, but he knew that the best person to talk to about these things Type was feeling would be Tharn. Tharn would be the only one who understood, didn’t judge. Tharn never seemed to judge him.

It was almost strange. It almost made Type wonder how many bad things he could do before Tharn began to judge him, began to hate him, but the thought of Tharn hating him hurt more than he expected. 

He wasn’t in love with the guy or anything. Be barely knew the guy, but he also knew that he wanted to get to know him more. He wanted to sit and talk with him and listen to what he had to say about his life and that was such a strange concept for Type. He had listened to his girlfriends talk about their lives, but he had never really been particularly interested in them or anything. They were just girlfriends. They hung out, kissed, maybe had sex, and eventually they would break up. He knew that he wasn’t going to be with any of them forever and he was fairly certain they had known the same. 

Things were different with Tharn however. Something felt different and Type wanted to explore that. It was shocking even to himself. 

But he had to admit that he was nervous. Not really about how Tharn would take it because clearly Tharn had some sort of feelings for him too. He had made that so incredibly obvious it was almost ridiculous. But he was nervous about the act of confessing in general. That wasn’t something he had ever had to do. 

He’d never been serious before this. This time, though, he was. 

Which is why he sat in his car for a good ten minutes before he worked up the courage to make his way up to Tharn’s apartment. 

It was almost seven. After getting the invite from Tharn, he had to take a shower and then it was the drive over plus the ten minutes he sat in the car just staring up at the building with a vague expression of horror on his face. All those things had taken a lot of time but that was fine. It was just in time for dinner, not too late and so Type made his way upstairs, trying to calm the pounding of his heart and the vaguely ill feeling that was settling in his stomach.

That feeling was beginning to get rather normal for him whenever it came to seeing Tharn. He hoped it would go away some day. 

Before knocking on the door, he took a moment to calm his nerves, taking in deep breaths and wiping his hands against his knees. He made sure his clothes were lying neatly on his body and his hair was in place and then he raised his fist and knocked.

Soon, Tharn answered the door, giving him a small smile. He wasn’t dressed in sweats and a sleeveless shirt this time and maybe Type was a little disappointed about that, but he looked really great in the dark t-shirt and jeans, so he didn’t actually mind all that much. 

Tharn smiled at him and Type’s stomach fluttered and he stammered a little as he spoke. “H-hey.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt the tips of his ears turn slightly red. He hoped that Tharn didn’t see that. 

“Come in.” Tharn opened the door wide and Type walked into the apartment, feeling warm and welcome the moment he stepped inside and slid off his shoes. Tharn led him over to the little dining area between the living area and the kitchen, the table already set up with food.

“You cooked?” Type asked, surprised. He hadn’t known that Tharn could cook but it smelled good and looked good. They were simple Thai dishes and his stomach gave a growl, only just now realizing just how hungry he was. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“I’m not, like, an expert at it or anything.” Tharn said a little bashfully, pointing to the chair for Type to sit down as he sat across on the other side of the table. “But I figured I should learn how to feed myself. When I’m touring, then it’s all fast food which isn’t good for you. So I try to eat at home as much as I can. Do you cook?”

Type shook his head a little, giving a small laugh. “Uh, no, I’m no good at cooking. I can do laundry. I hate doing it… I can clean--also hate doing it. I’m not very…” Type pursed his lips as he thought, picking up his chopsticks. “Homey? I guess, which is strange since my family runs a resort. But I am very good at handy-work. If you need a sink fixed or a roof fixed, then I can do that easily enough, at least temporarily until a professional can fix it completely.”

It felt strange but right sharing information like this with Tharn. They were getting to know each other and there was a slight giddiness to how Type spoke that he knew himself was unusual and he wondered if Tharn could hear it in his voice. He kinda hoped that he did; it would make all of this so much easier.

Tharn just smiled, seeming to take in all the information that Type told him, looking like he appreciated it. “Everyone likes a good handyman.” Tharn told him and Type’s heart lurched, wanting to ask if Tharn also liked a good handyman. He held himself back. “There is actually something I want to talk to you about though, Ai’Type.” Tharn’s voice got a little soft and Type looked up at him. “But I want to do it after we eat. I hope you like it.”

“I’ll like it.” He promised with a genuine smile and began eating, shoveling food into his mouth. They made small talk. Tharn asked him about his day and he told him how practice went, how there was an asshole on the team who had said some shit the other day, but hadn’t spoken to him since. Type figured he’d gotten scolded and all the better for him. Tharn then told him that he’d spent the day sleeping in, writing music.

Type asked if he could take a sneak peek at some of the songs he was writing. Tharn said if he behaved he could. 

Type felt a little shy at that comment. Behave huh… it made him think of things. Like not behaving, but Type also really wanted to see those songs so he promised to be a good boy, in those words, and Tharn just looked at him before quietly taking another bite of his food.

Had Type really just flirted like that with Tharn? Yeah, he was going to die of embarrassment. 

After they finished eating, Type insisted he help with the dishes because he could do it, but Tharn told him that he was a guest and he appreciated the offer, but he was more than welcome to go wait in the living room because this would just take a couple of minutes.

So he followed the instruction and headed towards the living room, but, instead of sitting, he took the opportunity to look at all of the pictures behind the couch because he hadn’t gotten a chance to last time, not really. He could see the resemblance easily enough between Tharn and his family. His eyes roved over them, lips turning up into a smile as he looked at Tharn holding a young girl who then grew up to be a bigger girl as the photos aged up. He guessed that was his sister, Thanya was it? She had to be twelve or thirteen now. 

There were pictures of him as a kid too, hanging out with what he assumed was his brother and a guy who looked an awful lot like Tharn’s manager P’San. He frowned a little at a picture of the two with P’San’s arm wrapped tightly around a smiling Tharn’s waist from behind. Something struck him as off about it, but he didn’t know what.

He then looked at the pictures of Tharn with his band. There were a lot of him and Lhong. They’d known each other for a long time after all, and apparently they were best friends. He glanced over at Tharn and then back at the pictures. Had Tharn noticed how Lhong was looking at him with adortion in his eyes in practically every single one?

Did Tharn know that Lhong was in love with him?

He felt the stirrings of jealousy in his stomach and turned away from the pictures to sit on the couch and finish waiting for Tharn. Looking over the pictures hadn’t been nearly as fun as Type had expected. There were so many people vying for Tharn’s attention and affection that Type wondered if he even had a chance.

He looked over at Tharn, watching his back as he scrubbed at a pot and then remembered. 

Type had been the one that Tharn had spent New Years with. Type had been the one he’d asked out on a date on live television. Type had been the one he’d kissed just yesterday. And Type was the one who was currently at his apartment spending time with him.

He squared his shoulders and felt more determined. He had a chance. He knew he had a chance.

Not much longer later, Tharn had finished up his cleaning and came and joined Type on the couch, sitting a few feet away. Type frowned at that, wanting to move closer but decided it was okay. It didn’t mean anything, but as Tharn looked at him saying nothing, Type started to feel a little insecure.

He needed to do this now. Say it now--before he chickened out.

Type opened his mouth to speak.

“Me first.” Tharn said quickly before Type could even say anything. Type’s mouth snapped shut and he blinked at him before slowly nodding, letting the other go first. It took a moment for Tharn to speak again, however. Instead, he was breathing in deeply and slowly letting it out, as if preparing himself for something.

Type didn’t have a good feeling. He was proved right.

“I’m sorry for kissing you.” Tharn began and Type felt his body stiffen just a little. “I shouldn’t have done it. It was inappropriate and I’ve once again realized that I’m overstepping a lot of boundaries with you Type. There’s something about you that makes me lose some of my control and it’s not good. It’s not right that I’m pushing you to something that you are so clearly uncomfortable with. When I asked you out like that--I was in the wrong and I… I have a confession.”

Type felt an uneasiness settling over him and stayed silent, although he wanted to do nothing more than to interrupt so that he didn’t have to hear what Tharn was going to say next.

“I contacted the cologne company.” Type closed his eyes at the words, letting them wash over him and trying to take in exactly what that meant. “I pitched that these sorts of ads work amazing among the BL fangirls and the lgbtq community and that because of what was happening with the pictures that someone took on New Years, you and I would be a great spokesperson for it. I know the creator of the perfume. I knew they were looking for people and I--I pitched us because I wanted to get closer to you and I knew you would say no to the request for my date.”

Type really didn’t know what to say at this confession. It hadn’t at all been what he had expected and he felt angry and upset, but also sad because he could see where this was going. Tharn had basically played him, but Type knew the feelings he held were real. Tharn confessing now meant that he was coming clean. He was letting go.

He was letting Type go and he had already made up his mind about it. 

“I hate myself more than anything and I wouldn’t blame you if you want to hit me. Or press charges. But I wanted you to know because I’ve decided to stop. If you want me to I’ll put out a statement taking the blame for everything. I’ll tell the company that we’re backing out and I’ll take care of whatever fine there is for breaking the contract.” Tharn took in a shuddering breath and Type slowly opened his eyes to look over at him. Tharn wasn’t looking at him though, but down at his hands which were turning white from how tightly he was clenching them together.

Tharn continued. “I’m letting you go, Type. Even… even if you had developed feelings for me, I couldn’t--I can’t act on that because of what I’ve done. I’d feel guilty forever because I’ve been taking advantage of you this entire time. You came to trust me and I hid something so big from and it was so wrong of me and I know that and I’m sorry.”

Type understood. He understood perfectly.

His heart ached in his chest.

“I have one question.” Type said slowly and Tharn glanced up at him, looking pale and vaguely ill at all that he had just said. “Did you have those pictures of us taken on New Years?”

Tharn quickly shook his head, denying. “No. I don’t know who took those. I doubt I’ll ever find out. Press wasn’t allowed in so it was someone at the party. They probably got paid a lot unless for some reason they sent it in anonymously but… I know we weren’t the only same sex couple kissing that night.” Tharn admitted, licking over his lips as he sat up a little straighter. “So it was probably about one of us personally, but since you and your friend were practically the only athletes there, it was probably about me. Which is just another reason to be sorry towards you, Type. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want to be friends any more.”

In all honesty, Type wasn’t sure. A part of him wanted nothing more than to tell Tharn it was okay, admit his feelings, and see where it went from there, but Tharn was right. This wasn’t okay and Type didn’t feel okay. He felt hurt and betrayed and he didn’t even know if he could trust Tharn right now.

He had come to trust Tharn so easily somehow and to find out that everything had been a lie? A rouse? A set-up? All to spend more time with him? It was almost flattering in a way, but it also made Type feel uncomfortable and he furrowed his brows and rubbed his hands on his pants and just felt confused.

The mix of emotions was confusing and that was the only appropriate word. The feelings of like that had formed into a crush was still there. They hadn’t gone away just because Tharn had admitted this, but he certainly couldn’t act on them now, didn’t even know if he wanted to. Type just didn’t know what he wanted at all. 

“I just… I need some time to think about things, Tharn.” He said softly, leaning back into the couch and staring straight ahead at the black screen of the television. 

“I expected. If you decide you can’t be my friend anymore, it’s okay. I get it. I won’t bother you anymore, Type.” Tharn promised and Type closed his eyes. “I’m letting you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I hope you guys aren't too mad at me.. haha...


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note, I have another story up! I'm working on part 2 so please go check it out if you haven't yet :)
> 
> Also we're going to be REALLY getting into the thick of the plot soon and I'm super excited!! And the reason I don't mention Tae and Song like... ever is because I didn't know Tae's name until the final ep and I wrote this well before that (and I didn't want Tae to be the ONLY one I didn't mention by name so I neglected writing Song's name too). But LBC DOES have 5 members, Tharn, Lhong, Tum, Tae, and Song. So 2 guitarists and a bassist, a drummer, and singer because idk i just felt weird not including Tae in it and some bands have 2 guitarists so meh, whatever.
> 
> He'll be said by name post chapter 32 should the band pop up though. I just wanted to let you guys know that little detail.

“Hey, stop!” Lhong called out over the sound of the music and at once everyone halted, including Tharn. Tharn pursed his lips and rested his hands holding his drumsticks against his thighs, trying to avoid the look that Lhong was shooting at him as well as trying not to see all the glances that the others (mainly Tum) were sending each other. “Tharn… no offense, but your playing…”

Lhong’s voice trailed off but Tharn didn’t need to be told. He sounded like absolute shit and had done so for the last few days. He felt like crap and didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be rehearsing, didn’t want to play his drums. Normally it made him feel better, got his mind off of his issues, but it just wasn’t working. Instead he felt sick with guilt, his body aching as if he had the flu and Tharn kind of wondered if he was getting sick. It would be just what he deserved, if he got sick barely a week and a half before their album launch.

It’d been a week since he’d spoken to Type. A week since he’d come clean. A week since he had let Type go and asked if they could still be friends, if Type liked. It had been a week since he had heard from Type and Tharn got the point.

Type no longer wanted anything to do with him.

“I know.” He sighed, brushing a hand roughly through his hair. “I know--I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Lhong said softly, a frown settling on his face in concern. “Well, just, take it easy--”

“Take it easy?” Tum interrupted with a scoff. He rolled his eyes as he removed his guitar strap from around him and set it to the side. “We have just over a week to finish rehearsing. We--no wait, Tharn--is the one who decided he wanted to do this launch party and play songs from the album. We sound like absolute shit because of him, and you want him to take it easy, Lhong? We’d be better off without a drummer at this rate.”

Tharn clenched his jaw tightly and breathed out sharply for his nose as a headache began to form. Normally, he was fairly good at brushing off Tum’s comments, but he hadn’t been in the best mood for the last week and it was grating on his nerves.

“Look, let’s just take a break and then we can come back in thirty minutes and continue, okay?” Lhong suggested, looking desperate as he tried to dissuade the growing tensions in the rehearsal room.

“A break? We’ve only been rehearsing for an hour. It’s not time for a break, Lhong. It’s time to get fucking serious.” Tum grinned but it wasn’t a humorous grin. It was the grin of someone who couldn’t believe what was happening. “Look, I know you have your head stuck up Tharn’s ass, but your buddy here is screwing us over.” 

“Shut your mouth, Tum.” Tharn stood from behind his drums, his temperature raising in a way that it normally didn’t. His pulse raced and he clenched his hands into fists by his side as he tried to control himself. “You don’t get to talk to him that way.”

“No?” Tum asked, taking a step forward. Tharn squared himself and held his ground. “Fine, but you don’t get to drag us along just because you let your dick do your thinking and now you’re, what? Realizing that soccer player isn’t ever going to love you?”

“What the fuck is your problem with me, huh, Tum?” Tharn asked harshly, narrowing his eyes with a glare. It was uncharacteristic of him to get like this, but he’d had enough of Tum’s attitude. He’d been dealing with it for years and it was a wonder their band even managed to last as long as it did. “What did I ever do to you that it’s so bad?”

“You dated my fucking little brother behind my back, or did you forget about that?” Tum hissed sharply and Tharn actually winced a little at the statement. 

He let out a breath and closed his eyes. “Is this really all this is about? Because I dated Tar for five seconds?” Tharn opened his eyes again and looked across at his one time close friend. “He broke up with me, remember? When he decided to go to France.” Tharn then lowered his voice. “Or is this about something else than just me dating your little brother?”

They stared at each other, both knowing exactly what Tharn was getting at, but neither saying it aloud. Tharn knew. Tum knew that he knew. He’d known it back then too, the moment he’d let it known to Tum that Tar had asked him out and he’d accepted. He’d seen the way that Tum’s face had changed and it hadn’t been that of an older brother protecting his younger sibling. 

An awkward silence filled the room and then Tum gave a short laugh. “Fine,” He said, raising his arms up and then lowering them back down as he looked between Tharn and Lhong. “A break. We can take a break. Cool our heads off, but your friend here, Lhong, needs to get his act together before he single-handedly destroys our group the same day our new album launches.”

Tum then turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the studio door closed behind him. Nobody else said anything and Tharn let out a breath, collapsing back down into his seat. 

“Uh… let’s go get a drink, Tharn.” Lhong suggested, but it was less of a suggestion than what was going to happen. He wanted to say no anyway, but he looked up at his friend’s face and the sternness of it and knew that wasn’t an option.

He sucked on his lip and then nodded. Tharn set his sticks down and then followed Lhong out, the two of them walking down the street to a small coffee shop that they frequented. They got their drinks and settled in a corner, Lhong looking at him a little awkwardly, but mostly in worry and Tharn hated that he was worrying his friend so much.

“Want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Lhong asked, taking a slow sip of his drink.

“Do I have a choice?” Tharn asked instead of answering.

“Sure.” Lhong allowed, giving a little bit of a shrug. “But it might help to share what’s on your mind. Not to agree with Tum or anything but… our last few rehearsals, you really kind of have sounded like shit, and he’s right. We have our launch in like two weeks and a hundred people are going to be there. We can’t screw it up. It was your idea in the first place.”

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to clear himself of the headache that had been throbbing behind his eyes for nearly a good week. “I know. You’re right. Tum is even right. I’m--my head isn’t there and I don’t know how to get it there.”

Lhong took in a breath and leaned forward, slowly placing a hand over Tharn’s. Tharn welcomed the comfort. “You may not want to tell me what happened, but I need you to remember something, Ai’Tharn. Nothing is more important than the music. Music is your passion, our passion. Remember?” Lhong smiled, his brows lifting a little as he squeezed Tharn’s hand.

Tharn looked at their hands and then up at Lhong and gave a small smile back. “Aa, you’re right, Ai’Lhong. What would I ever do without you?” Tharn teased, picking up his drink to sip at it.

“Suffer, probably.” Lhong smirked playfully before slowly removing his hand and leaning back in his seat. “But we’ll never have to find out for sure because I’m not going anywhere. Ever. You just have to deal with that.”

“How cruel of you.” Tharn gave a small chuckle, feeling a tiny bit better. Lhong was right. Music was Tharn’s passion and first love. Nobody, not even Type, was worth ruining something he’d worked so hard for over. And he doubted Type would want that anyway, no matter how upset or angry Type was at him, he didn’t think he was cruel. 

Maybe he should invite Type to the launch party. Would that be overstepping the boundaries that Tharn had said he’d no longer cross? Maybe, but it seemed polite at least. Type didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to, but, for the moment until the time Type told him he wanted to stop, they were still under contract. It would only make sense to invite Type. 

He pulled out his phone and opened up his messages with Type, the last one having been Type agreeing to coming over for dinner, and nothing since. Tharn opened up his pictures and sent the e-invite to his and Type’s chat and then closed out of his phone and settled back in to finish his drink before he and Lhong made their way back to the studio to practice. 

The rest of the rehearsal went fairly smoothly. Tharn had a few screw ups but not nearly as bad as he’d been having the last week so Tum didn’t open his mouth again, instead staying silent and not looking at Tharn the entire time. That was okay with Tharn, not all too eager to get into another fight, but something wasn’t sitting right with him and as they were packing up for the day, he turned towards Tum.

“Tum… stay behind a moment? So we can talk. Privately.” He said it in a quiet tone, but serious and the others looked between them, Lhong in particular looking worried.

Tum let out a breath through his nostrils as he stood and looked over, his hand tight around his guitar case as he seemed to eye Tharn up. “Fine. But only because I actually care about this band even if you don’t.”

Tharn pursed his lips, but said nothing.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Lhong asked him softly and Tharn shook his head, telling him it was okay and to go on ahead. He’d let him know how it went.

The others filed out, Lhong hovering for a brief moment before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him and then he and Tum were alone.

Silence. Tum tapped his foot and looked impatient. “Well? I do have other things to do so…”

“Why do you actually hate me, Tum?” Tharn asked seriously, leaning back against the wall just a bit. “Is it really just because I dated Tar behind your back? I never hurt him. He’d attest to that.”

“I know.” Tum said harshly and then shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. He looked torn and then he sighed, sitting in a chair across the room, practically as far from Tharn as he could get. “I made sure when Tar told me he broke up with you. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t running off to France to get away from you, but he said he did it for your sake because he loved you and you’d be waiting years for him. And he didn’t want you to waste years of your life on someone halfway across the world.”

“Then why--” Tharn asked in confusion, but was interrupted before he could finish.

“I just… you were my best friend, Tharn. I know Lhong has always been your best friend, but… you were mine.” Tum said honestly, sounding pained even as he said it. “And I felt betrayed that you’d go behind my back to date my little brother. And he’s so young--”

“He’s only a couple of years younger than we are, Tum.” Tharn pointed out quickly, not wanting that label painted on himself.

“I know.” Tum said again, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees and clasp his hands in front of himself. “I know. But that’s just how I felt.”

Tharn looked at him carefully, that thought once again fluttering through his mind. He’d never asked. Tum had never said. But they knew, they both knew, it only made sense. 

He decided to ask.

“Ai’Tum…” he said gently, not knowing how the other was going to take something like this. “Tar. You don’t think of him as just your brother… do you?”

Tum was silent, furrowing his eyebrows as he avoided looking Tharn directly in the face, not answering but neither denying and that was answer enough. Tharn took in a deep breath, a strange feeling settling over him, not exactly sure how he should respond to something like this. 

“Does he know--?”

“Tar is just my step-brother.” Tum shot off quickly, not angry, but sounding almost desperate in his words. “It’s not like we’re related by blood.” Tharn didn’t point out the fact that they had been raised together since they were young, not thinking he needed to. Tum knew that even better than he did. 

“So he doesn’t know.” Tum was silent again, but this time he was looking at Tharn directly as he slowly sat back up to lean back into the chair. 

“I don’t plan on telling him.” Tum said lightly and then stood with a deep breath in. He grabbed his case and swung the strap over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare tell anyone this, Tharn.”

“I won’t.” He said gently, honestly. It wasn’t anyone’s business, wasn’t even his business. “Uh--how is Tar, by the way?” Tharn asked suddenly, something inside of him desperately yearning to know. He hadn’t heard from him since his birthday, when Tar had sent him a simple card wishing him another good year. Those were the only times that Tharn heard from him anymore. He supposed it was on purpose. 

Tum seemed to ponder on whether or not he wanted to let Tharn know before deciding. “He’s good. He’s about to graduate from culinary school. He has a few offers lined up, but he hasn’t decided if he wants to stay in France or come back home yet. But he’s happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen him before.”

Tharn felt comforted and gave a small smile, his stomach doing a little flip as he thought about the younger boy’s (man, now, he supposed) happiness. “I’m glad. He--Tar was always a good person. He deserves success whatever he decides.”

“Yeah.” Tum agreed and then cleared his throat. “I’m going to--” he pointed at the door and without another moment’s hesitation, he left.

Tharn sat there for a few moments longer, a sudden whirling of memories entering to the forefront of his mind. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, going to the folder he still had labeled as ‘Tar’. In it were dozens of photos of him and the younger boy. Teenagers experiencing first love together. He’d dated people before and after Tar, but never had he felt so strongly for another person in his life.

He had truly loved Tar, and he’d been heartbroken when Tar had broken up with him. Everyone always broke up with him, but he hadn’t expected it from Tar. It took him months to get over it, but as he looked at the photos and felt those familiar butterflies still fluttering about, he quickly closed out of the folder and closed his eyes with a groan.

What was he doing to himself? He wasn’t even over Type…

Type. The thought of him made his insides feel inflamed. A harsher emotion than the butterflies that the thought of Tar gave him, but he supposed that was from Tharn’s own guilt over what he had done. He’d truly ruined things with Type. And there was a thought nagging at the back of his mind.

A part of Tharn wondered if maybe Type was the person he could’ve been happy with for a long time. He supposed he’d never know now.

His phone buzzed and he looked down, his breath getting stuck in his throat.

It was Type.

**Type**   
_i’ll think about it_


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week since the end of TharnType :( BUT WE REACHED 50MIL!!! Now we wait!

Type needed a break. Again. So home it was. Again. He would deal with the scolding he got from the coach later. They wouldn’t kick him off the team for this. It wasn’t the season for matches, they were just holding practices and missing a few was no big deal. For now. Type was going to take advantage of this for the time being. 

So home he went. To his room he went. Beneath his covers he went and curled up and decided to stay there for all eternity as he moped and thought and felt sad for himself and angry at Tharn for even bothering to tell him all of this.

He was angry at Tharn for being honest.

He wanted to not care. He wanted to say it was okay, that he forgives him. Type wanted to confess his feelings and find out what would happen and go from there. He just wanted to know what it would be like, to give it a try, but Tharn had to go and be honest about what he’d done and just ruin everything.

Now he was confused. Now he didn’t know what to feel because half of him was angry and the other half didn’t care. Which was right? Which was the part that he should concentrate on? It was his move. He knew it was his move. He could go tell the company he was backing out, he could expose Tharn for his tricks and never talk to him again. But none of that sounded appealing.

He could also just never speak to Tharn again. That also didn’t sound appealing. 

But he also didn’t want to talk to Tharn. He wasn’t ready for that, not until he knew what he wanted to do.

What Type needed was someone to talk to, but who could he turn to? He could talk to Techno, but he had his own problems to worry about. Techno had seemed stressed lately and while Type didn’t know what exactly was going on, he could guess it had something to do with that creep of a fansite of his. He didn’t want to bother Techno with his issues.

Or he could talk to Kom… 

But he felt weird about it. Especially after everything Kom had heard him say over the years, especially after what Type had just ranted at him a few weeks earlier. He felt like a hypocrite and the idea of laying out all of his issues onto Kom’s shoulders made him groan and cover his head with a pillow, crying out into it with a loud scream that was muffled by it just to release some of his stress. It didn’t really work like they made it seem in the movies. 

He huffed and tossed his pillow off of his face. Besides, he’d texted Kom to let him know he was coming home two days ago. Kom never replied. He’d read the message, but didn’t text back to say hey or ask if they could hang out. 

Type picked at a loose string on the blanket. Maybe Kom was busy.

Or maybe Kom didn’t want to talk to him after that last time. He’d seemed rather quiet afterwards. Type didn’t really know entirely what was up with that, but maybe Kom actually disagreed with him and was just too scared to say so. It wasn’t like Type could blame him for that. Type didn’t exactly make it easy for other people to have differing opinions some time.

But he needed to talk to someone because, so far, sitting around and thinking to himself just had him going in circles and he was never going to get anywhere like that. 

With a sigh, he leaned over his bed and grabbed his phone. He quickly scrolled through his contacts until he found Kom and pressed dial, bringing it up to his ear to let it ring. 

There was no answer. Or rather than no answer, he was cut off. Kom sent him straight to voicemail? He frowned and furrowed his brows before dialing again. Once more straight to voicemail.

Annoyed, his brow twitching, he opened up their chat group and angrily sent a message. 

_answer ur damn phone kom_

He closed out of it with a huff and gave it a moment to make sure that Kom saw it before dialing again. This time he got an answer. 

_“I’m sort of busy here, Type.”_ Kom’s voice came from the other end of the line. _“I’m at work picking up another shift since I sorta need the money. Not all of us are professional athletes, you know?”_

Type gave a tiny flinch, frowning at the uncharacteristic harshness of his friend’s words. “What the hell? Sorry, I didn’t know. What’s up with you?”

There was a long sigh and then a brief pause. _“Sorry, look, I’m just super busy right now, okay Type? I’m at work and I’m tired and I have a paper due and I just don’t have time--”_

“But you have a break right? Or lunch? Or I can meet you after you get off?” Type suggested quickly, a frown settling over his face. 

_“I… I’m sorry, Type. I can’t.”_ And then Kom hung up and Type was left blinking as he stared down at his phone in his hand.

“Well, too bad for you, I know where you work.” Type muttered to himself with a shake of his head, deciding he’d just go see what the hell was up with Kom for himself. He grabbed his phone and his wallet as well as the keys to one of the cars they owned, letting his mom know that he was taking it and to tell dad before he hurried over to the record shop that Kom worked at in town. 

It didn’t take him too long to get there and once he went inside he was greeted with the sound of LBC playing on the overhead speaker. He tilted his head up and gave a small glare to the speaker hanging from the ceiling. Of course. Wasn’t that just fitting?

Kom was at the counter ringing someone up when he looked up, saw him, and shook his head before going back to his customer. Type let him be for the moment, not wanting to bug him too much while he was working and went over to browse through the rock section.

He flipped through the vinyls, making his way down the aisle until he got to the L’s. He hesitated before picking up a copy of LBC’s debut single Be Mine. His favorite. He sighed softly and looked at the silhouettes, able to make out Tharn even if it weren’t for the fact that he was the one holding the shadowed drumsticks. 

“You like LBC?” A voice came from his right and he turned his head, looking at the man who was maybe a few centimeters taller than him. He was of a similar build to Tharn and Type hated that was the first thing that he noticed. 

Type set down the vinyl, glancing from it to the other man. “Yeah, haven’t you heard? I’m dating the drummer.” He said dryly with a raised eyebrow because it was as if everyone had already heard that and it was probably the reason he was being approached now anyway.

“No shit?” The man laughed and then leaned in, play whispering. “Me too. Must be two-timing.” Type blinked slowly. Or maybe he really didn’t know who Type was. The man extended his hand. “I’m Oak.”

He hesitated for a moment before placing his hand into the other’s, giving him a quick shake. “Type.” He replied back before tilting his head back down to look through the vinyls some more.

“So, Type, come here often?” Type turned his head back upwards just in time to see the guy grimace and flinch with a laugh. “Okay, that was a bad come on, huh? Cliche.”

Type almost wanted to reiterate to clarify that the guy was hitting on him, but decided not to entertain it instead. “Actually, my friend works here. But no, not anymore. I live in Bangkok.” 

Oak’s eyes shot to the cash register where Kom was ringing up a few more customers before he turned his eyes back to Type with a smile. “Bangkok, huh? You don’t seem like a city boy though. And I know city boys. I was born and raised in one, so I am a city boy.”

“I was born and raised here.” Type told him, unsure why he was sharing so much, but figured that he was just bored. “So, no, not really a city boy, but I’ve lived there since I was eighteen. It’s not so bad. If you’re a city boy, what are you doing down south?”

“I just moved a few months back. Wanted a bit of a change. It gets like that sometimes.” Oak told him as he fixed a crooked sign signaling some sort of sale. 

“I guess it does.” Type murmured, finding this entire exchange somewhat weird if not a little bit uncomfortable. 

Oak smiled at him. It was almost charming, but it wasn’t anything like Tharn’s. He then turned towards the register where the last customer had just walked away. “Nong Kom--go ahead and take your break. Your friend is here.”

Type blinked rapidly. “You--”

“I’m the manager.” Oak said, still smiling as he looked at him. “Just started a few months ago.” His eyes trailed down Type’s body and Type suddenly felt a little funny, taking a small step backwards as he rubbed at the back of his neck. Then the man’s eyes shot upwards so quickly that Type almost thought he had just imagined the guy checking him out. “Well, it was nice meeting you Type. I have some things I have to do, so I’ll let Kom take his break now.”

“Okay…” he muttered and then the man walked off and Kom hurried over to him with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face.

“Type, I told you I was busy.” Kom then sighed and looked around before pointing towards the door. “Let’s go across the street and get something to eat. You’re paying.” Without waiting for an answer, Kom walked out of the shop, the bell dinging as the door opened and Type walked after him, following him across the road to a diner. 

“That guy was your manager? He’s like our age.” Type said as they sat down in a booth.

“P’Oak? He’s a couple of years older than us, but he doesn’t look it.” Kom’s eyes scanned the menu and Type watched him for a moment before looking down at his own as well. “So. What did you come out here all the way for? I’m guessing something is bugging you?”

Type suddenly felt a little scared to speak. He licked over his lips and said nothing, instead sipping at his water once the waitress brought it back. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it to Kom. He’d known the other for so long that they were practically brothers, but there were just things that was difficult to share with someone like that.

But this was why he had come, why he had seeked Kom out and bothered him at work. It wouldn’t be fair to Kom if he chickened out now. 

“I…” he took in a breath, hesitating and Kom glanced up at him, not looking at all curious, but more bored and Kom had never given him this look before. Something about it strangely hurt and he wondered if this was a good idea. Maybe it was better to say nothing at all, even if it would be wasting Kom’s time. He furrowed his brows and closed his mouth.

Kom then rolled his eyes a little, closing his menu and leaning forward. “Type, you have something you want to say. So say it or I’m going back to work. I don’t have time for this today.” Kom paused. “I don’t have time for you.”

It hit him like a jackhammer hit the cement and Type took in a sharp breath, leaning back into his seat. His heart pounded, but not in the same way it pounded when he was near Tharn. This was something different, something painful like a shard of glass had been shoved into his chest and then twisted, but the glass was dull and jagged and cut him into ribbons. 

He looked down at the table, breathing slowly and deeply as he tried to control the feeling of his insides twisting. He felt as if he were at sea, the swaying of the ocean causing him to be sick. 

“I--sorry…” Type murmured, actually meaning it and then he stood, pulling out some money for their drinks and a tip for the waste of time and whatever Kom decided to get if he decided to stay. “Sorry for bothering you.”

A part of him hoped that Kom would tell him it was okay and to sit down and tell him what was on his mind and he hesitated as he stood there for a moment, almost expecting it. But none of it came and that smacked him in the face with reality. He took a step back and turned and walked out of the diner. Kom didn’t call him to come back. Kom didn’t say anything at all.


	23. Chapter 22

The next couple of days, Type mostly helped out around the resort. He helped his father fix some things up, helped him run the counter when needed and in the evening he’d go and help his mother. It kept him busy. It kept him preoccupied and he was thankful neither of them asked why the sudden visit. He didn’t want to explain, couldn’t even begin to explain it to them. 

A part of him had expected Kom to text him, apologizing and saying that they could meet up later. He had hoped that was what was going to happen, but when it didn’t, Type was at a loss. Had he just lost a friend? Where they fighting and Type didn’t even know the reason for it? 

Atop of everything else that was going on with him, that was almost too much to handle, so he buried it down. He couldn’t worry about that now. Kom would have to take a backseat and it wasn’t like that was something he could control anyway, so it just made sense, right? Kom was obviously upset at him for some reason, but if he didn’t even tell Type why, then how was he supposed to fix it? He’d just have to wait for Kom to decide that he was ready to fix things and then he’d be there, ready to talk to his friend and figure out what was going on. 

He had other things he needed figuring out first. Like what he was going to do about Tharn.

He thought maybe if he kept himself busy and not thinking about it, then he’d see something or someone would say something and suddenly everything would be clear, like in those movies when the main character has a sudden realization. Maybe Type would decide to let go, or maybe he’d go running back to Bangkok, knock on Tharn’s door, throw his arms around him, and then kiss him, telling him he forgives him and it’s okay and--well, that was all a bit too much for even himself to stomach at this point. 

Once he was done helping his mother do the dishes after he and his parents sat down to dinner, he’d excuse himself and go on a walk down by the beach. There were some people still out, partying, having fun. He could hear their laughters and screams as they splashed in the water. Type would make sure to avoid those people. It was never his sort of thing, even with his close friends. He preferred to just… sit. Walk. Watch the waves wash over the sand and feel it beneath his feet. 

He didn’t usually have anyone to do this with, though. He wondered if Tharn liked beaches. Or maybe he was more into mountains. Type wished he had asked when the topic of his parents’ resort had come up. Tharn had never offered the information and Type hadn’t even wondered. Now he wanted to know. He wanted to know more little things about Tharn. His favorite places, movies, books--if he had them. He knew his favorite food and one of his favorite bands. He could list his height from his profiles, the fact he has no animals, he’s got a history with his manager, and he’s been friends with Lhong, the lead singer, since they were teenagers.

But he was beginning to realize just how little he actually knew about Tharn. Just how little he had thought to ask. Had Tharn ever spoken at all? Or had Type just not listened? He had always been bad at that; listening. He wished he’d done more of it. Was it too late? Could he not go listen anymore?

He paused in his walk as a red frisbee landed at his feet and a dusty colored dog came running up, taking it in between teeth, wagging his tail excitedly as he sat in front of Type and looked at him, as if waiting for him to take the frisbee to toss it.

Type blinked down at the dog. “I’m not your owner.”

“Melon! Leave the man alone--oh, it’s you.” Said a surprised voice and Type looked up from the dog to see someone jogging over. It took him a moment, but he suddenly recognized the man as Kom’s manager, Oak, from the record shop.

“Are you following me?” Type asked suddenly, confused as to why he was suddenly seeing this guy again.

Oak laughed and shook his head, leaning down to rub the dog’s head. “Uh, no, I live over there.” He turned and pointed off to a few houses that sat on a cliff awhiles away. “I just take my dog out at night to go for a run and play around, since I work all day and Melon needs to have some exercise and fun, don’t you girl?” he rubbed at her ears, dropping a kiss down against her head and the dog barked, tongue flopping from her mouth. “What about you?”

Type glanced over at his shoulder towards the resort. “My family owns it.”

The other looked up, surprised. “No shit? So that guy who is always all over the place running things must be your dad, huh? Yeah, I’ve talked to him a couple of times. He’s a good guy.”

He gave a slow nod, but smiled. He liked it when people complimented his family. “Yeah, of course he’s a good guy. He’s the best guy. So this is your dog?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, this is Melon. Melon, say hi.” He told the animal and Melon barked again, the frisbee now on the sandy beach beneath them. “I adopted her on a rescue a couple of years ago. She was being abused pretty badly by her family and was very skittish when I first got her, but she’s a happy girl now. Want to pet her?”

Type looked at the dog. He’d always liked them, but he’d never actually had one before. He slowly reached out, extending his hand, palm facing away from her. Melon leaned forward, pressing her snout into his hand and sniffing before giving his hand a slobbery lick. Type gave a small smile and pat her head. “She’s well trained.”

“It didn’t actually take all that much, if I’m honest.” Oak told him. “She’s a good girl.” Type straightened up and their eyes met. That sudden nervous feeling that he’d had a few days ago came back as Oak stared at him and then there was another bright smile on his face. “Hey--maybe this is forward, but uh… you want to come over for a drink? I know it’s kinda late and all but since we live so close to each other, I can just walk you back home afterwards.”

Type hesitated. He should say thanks but no (or not even thanks and no) then turn around and go home and get some rest, but something gave him pause. This man was clearly attracted to him, was very plainly hitting on him and Type, though nervous, was slightly… curious. 

Tharn had been the only man he’d actually had any experience with and it’d been a drunken one-night stand that’s caused quite a bit of issues. This guy didn’t know him. Clearly he didn’t know that he was a professional anything and didn’t even know about his current ongoings with the drummer of LBC. He was interested in Type purely because he’d caught his eye.

And there was nothing else there. A physical attraction that could happen and then end and that’s all it would ever be. Type didn’t want a repeat of Tharn, and this gave him the most hesitation, but then Oak said something that calmed his nerves.

“Nobody has to know.” He murmured, leaning just a little bit forward. Type glanced around. The beach was quiet, empty and the resort was so far down the other end of the beach that it wasn’t like anyone could see him this far out. And Oak’s place was there on the cliff and he was offering something that Tharn was finding it difficult to pass-up.

“A drink?” Type asked, brushing a hand through his hair as a particularly strong breeze blew it into his eyes.

“Just a drink. Unless you want more.” Oak promised and Type once more looked behind himself at the resort. He then nodded and Oak smiled, the two of them heading back towards his place.

There were steep steps that led up the cliff and to Oak’s house. Oak said it was the quick way and Type was thankful for the fact he was an athlete or else those stairs may have given him some trouble to climb. Melon seemed perfectly at ease as she bounded up the steps, stopping at the top to wait for them before rushing back down to meet them, nudging their leg and then running back up to hurry them along.

Type couldn’t help but to laugh. The dog was cute, he could admit that much. 

Oak’s place was larger than it had looked from down on the cliff. It had a large, open area with a kitchen off to the right, then there was a hall leading to the left where he assumed the bedroom and bathroom were. The wall opposite the entrance was entirely made of glass, dark curtains of an expensive looking nature pushed to either side, and all of the furniture looked to be hand-carved wood. 

Type looked around in amazement. “How do you afford this on a manager’s salary?” He questioned, turning back around to Oak who was picking up some dog toys from the floor and making sure Melon had a fresh bowl of water.

“Well,” Oak began, dumping the toys into a basket. “It’s not the only thing that I do, but it’s not something I talk about all that much. I like what I do. I like running that place. I know that’s weird. Most people hate retail, especially if they’re the manager. But I find it suits me.”

Type hummed and Oak told him to make himself comfortable before going over to the fridge and grabbing a couple of beers. Type swallowed a little nervously and sat down, Melon jumping up onto the couch right next to him and plopping her head down onto his lap. He stared down at her and then slowly began to pet her. Sure was a trusting dog.

Oak walked back over, handing him a beer before sitting next to him, but keeping a few feet away. “She normally doesn’t take to people so quickly like that. She must like you.”

“Really?” Type asked, surprised, looking back down at the dog again who already looked to be asleep on his leg.

“Yeah, but if she bugs you, I can put her away.”

“It’s fine.” He replied honestly. He really didn’t mind her and in fact she made him a little bit more comfortable. At least he wasn’t totally alone in the house with a complete stranger whom he had just met and could very well be a serial killer for all he knew.

Why, exactly, had Type agreed to this again?

He took a sip of his beer. 

“How long have you and Kom been friends?” Oak asked, leaning his head on his hand as he looked Type over curiously. Type felt as if he were being sized up almost, judged in a way. Judged for what, he wasn’t sure.

“Basically since we were born.” Type answered. “His mom and my mom were friends. And I’m twenty-four. So, awhile.”

“You don’t seem twenty-four.” Oak noted.

“Is that bad?”

Oak shook his head and took another drink. “No, you just--you seem like a few years younger. Not that much younger, but I would’ve expected you’d still be in college.”

“No, I’m… passed that.” Another drink.

“What do you do?”

Type took in a breath. “I play for Bangkok United. Soccer team.”

Oak blinked and then looked at him closely. “Oh, so that’s where I recognize you from… I thought you looked a little familiar, but I don’t really pay much attention to sports.”

“It was refreshing that someone didn’t know who I was for a change, actually.” Type admitted, being uncharacteristically forthcoming, but he figured it was from the weeks of holding back what he wanted to talk about, especially this week. He needed to talk, wanted to talk to someone. Maybe talking to a stranger, one who knew practically nothing about him, wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Oak set his beer on the table and scooted a little bit closer to him. Type clutched at his own beer, holding it close to his chest, eyeing him a little nervously. He wanted to scoot away, but the dog was firmly on his lap. 

“I have something to admit.” Oak said softly, his voice a little lower and it caused a small shiver to shoot down his spine. “I didn’t ask you here to have a drink.”

He swallowed and looked down at where his hand was turning white from how tightly he was holding the beer. He set it down and then leaned back again. “I know.” He admitted, glancing from Oak to the table to the wall then down to his hands before looking back at Oak again. “I didn’t accept to just… drink a beer.”

The other man gave a slow nod, a small smile on his face as he reached forward and stroked a strand of hair from Type’s face. The soft graze against his skin caused it to rise up into bumps. 

“Good.” Oak murmured, his fingers falling from Type’s forehead down to his chin, tilting his head up just a bit. Type stared with wide eyes and parted lips, unsure of what to do or what he had just gotten himself into as Oak leaned forward.

And then their lips met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Type what are you doing


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer to the question everyone is wondering is here... will Type go through with it?

The kiss started soft as Oak leaned over the short distance. Type’s hand was locked in the fur of the dog that still had her head settled on his lap, which he had forgotten about until she gave a small whine as he shifted so that he didn’t have to tilt his head nearly as much. Oak sucked briefly at his bottom lip, the feeling familiar, but new, and then the other man pulled back with a smile, his eyes glancing over Type’s face.

Type breathed out carefully, trying to calm himself from the nervous feeling that was overtaking him. “Let’s go to my room? It’s more comfortable there and we don’t have to worry about this girl.”

A welling of panic rose up inside of him but he squashed it with a nod. He was going to do this. He just… needed to see something. P’Oak stood and extended his hand towards Type. Type hesitated for a brief moment and then took his hand, letting the older man lead him down the short hall and into his bedroom.

The bedroom reflected the living room in that much of the furniture was hand-carved wood. The bed was large, probably enough for a good four people and Type wondered why anyone actually needed a bed that large. One of the walls was again glass and he watched as Oak walked over, shutting the dark, midnight blue curtains before he turned on a light. The light was dim and cast shadows of themselves as well as objects through the room, creating an almost illusion that the room was being lit by fire and not a lightbulb. 

Type hesitated over by the door and, once Oak had noticed, he gave a small laugh and walked over, his hand sliding along Type’s jawline. He swallowed tightly, feeling as if there was a sudden lump in his throat and he grasped tightly at the legs of his pants before closing his eyes tight as Oak leaned in and kissed him again. 

This kiss was just a bit firmer than the first kiss and it took Type a moment to bring himself to kiss back, but when he did, he felt himself being turned and then lead backwards until he could feel the back of his legs hit the bed. He stumbled a little and then sat down, watching as Oak looked him over with curiosity, his fingers still on his face but now beginning to trail up into his hair. 

Type tried to get himself to relax, but it was difficult. The stroking felt nice however so he allowed himself to enjoy it, closing his eyes once again. He felt the bed dip next to him and then lips press to his neck. He took in a breath and tilted his head towards the side. 

The lips grazed gently over his throat and he let it happen, biting down on his lip. It was so much softer, gentler than the night he had spent with Tharn. Although there had been its moments, a lot of it had been passionate kissing. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would feel to have a moment with Tharn like this. If Tharn would so barely touch him in this way or was it different for every person? 

He felt lips on his again and he parted them, pressing forward to apply pressure against Oak’s. A hand slid over his waist, rubbing at him over his shirt and it was okay. It felt good and Type did enjoy it, but it wasn’t making him feel anything special. Just like the kiss.

There was a nervousness there in Type, definitely, but there were no butterflies. There wasn’t the feeling of his heart pounding against his ribcage like there had been last week during the photoshoot. There wasn’t a tension as he sat here, his lips moving against Oak’s, Oak’s hand beginning to move beneath his shirt to run the tips of his fingers over his skin.

It felt nice. It felt good and Type could even feel his body enjoying it. Oak himself was well built and Type enjoyed the feel of the muscles beneath his hands. He would probably even enjoy being laid out on the bed to spend the night here, letting the older man make him feel good. But even as he kissed him, even as it felt good, there was something so important missing from all of it.

And that was all Type could concentrate on and that made the kiss feel not so good.

He couldn’t enjoy it when his mind was elsewhere, wondering how things might be if it were Tharn here next to him, not some random guy he had literally just met a couple of days before, and then he felt slightly ill at himself.

What was he doing? Why was he doing this? What exactly was he trying to prove? He knew how he felt. Type knew this felt good. Tharn had felt good on top of him, kissing him, touching him, inside of him. He’d enjoyed it and he’d enjoyed the feelings that Tharn had begun evoking inside of him since then. They were uncomfortable and confusing and strange, but to say he wasn’t happy when Tharn looked at him with one of those teasing smiles would be an outright lie, a lie to himself. 

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to do this. But he also didn’t know if he wanted to just forgive and forget what Tharn had done. So much had happened, things weren’t the same in his life anymore. Things were hectic. Instead of his playing, people only concentrated on his relationship with Tharn whether it be the news or his teammates. 

Type still couldn’t forget what Aksornpan had said to him, the words, how it had made him feel and Tharn had caused all of this. Partially. At least as far as the sponsorship went. Type just didn’t know what was real or fake, couldn’t be sure of Tharn’s motives. If he had lied about that, then what else was he lying about?

Still, he couldn’t do this.

He lifted a hand and pushed Oak’s down from beneath his shirt before leaning away with a sigh. There was a pause before the other pulled away, his voice thick and confused as he spoke. “Is something wrong?”

Type avoided looking at him, feeling embarrassed and ashamed and he scooted a bit away on the bed, P’Oak’s hands falling free from him. “I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t do this.”

Silence filled the room and slowly he turned his head to glance at the other who looked slightly disappointed. “Can I ask why?”

“I…” Type wasn’t sure what to say. He could ask, but did Type have an answer for him? “I just can’t. I’m sorry.” Type stood, straightening his clothes. “I have to go.” But before he could leave, Oak grabbed his wrist, a firm grasp that made Type pause and look around at him. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was full of concern, his brows furrowed. Type glanced down at their hands and Oak quickly let go. “Sorry.” He apologized and stood, straightening up his own clothes. “You just seem… you haven’t done this before?”

Type looked at him and then shook his head. Well, he had once, but somehow he didn’t count Tharn. 

“You seem like you have something on your mind.” 

He suddenly felt a little strange about talking further with this person. Oak seemed nice and all, but he really didn’t know him and here he was, in a stranger’s house, almost having let himself be taken and what sort of bad idea was that? He knew nothing about this guy, what sort of person he was, if he had any illnesses that Type could catch. 

“I do.” He said, taking a small step towards the door. “But it’s something I need to figure out on my own.” 

Oak leaned back on his hands and then let out a sigh and a nod. “Well, okay. You’re free to go then.” Type didn’t wait, giving him a small nod before hurrying from the room. He passed Melon on the couch and he hurried out of the house where the wind had picked up just a bit and now there was a cool breeze from the sea. 

He quickly headed down the steps towards the beach, his heart pounding nervously in his chest as he cursed himself for having almost made such a stupid mistake. Really, what had he been about to do?

Type sighed and made his way home.

-

Type slowly packed up his stuff with a small sigh. It’d been almost two weeks since he’d been home and it was time to head back. He’d been hoping to figure things out, but he was no closer to making up his mind than he had been a week ago. He wanted to punch Tharn for being such an idiot, for doing it in the first place, and for telling him the truth.

If Tharn hadn’t told him, then Type could have happily lived on just dealing with whatever came his way. He could’ve admitted his feelings and maybe Tharn would’ve said he shared those same feelings and then they could--well, he didn’t know what would happen after that. Would they be dating? It felt slightly weird to think about dating Tharn for real, but he would be open to at least seeing what might happen between them.

And that was a big step for Type. He knew it himself and he was pretty sure that Tharn would know it as well. Type didn’t open up easily, he never had. He’d often lock his thoughts and feelings away and never reveal them, wasn’t even sure how to. He wasn’t all that good with words, much better with actions, but his actions could be confusing, even to himself. 

He was aware of himself. At least he had that going for him.

There was a knock though his door was open and he turned to see his dad giving him a smile. “You all set to head back?” The man asked and Type turned, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Just about. A few more things to gather up and then I’m going to head back out to Bangkok.” Type’s father nodded and slowly walked into the room, looking around it with a large sigh before he sat down next to his son. Type watched him, tilting his head a little. “Type, not to say your mother and I didn’t enjoy having you back out here, but you’ve been visiting us a lot more lately. We’re a little worried.”

Type let out a slow breath before turning to look down at his feet, leaning back on his hands. “I can’t come just because I miss home?”

“Well, sure you can!” His father exclaimed, laying a hand on his son’s shoulder. “If that was the only reason you’re coming. Is something wrong, Type?” 

He glanced off to the side, not even sure what to say to that. There was something wrong, but how could he tell his father everything that had been going on with him? Type blinked, suddenly realizing something.

His father had never asked about the pictures that had leaked all over the internet. He was fairly sure that he had to have seen, that people--their friends--would’ve had to come up to his dad and asked. But his father had never asked him even once about them. Type was suddenly curious.

“Dad,” He started slowly, turning to look back around at his father. “Is there anything you want to ask me about?”

The man looked slightly confused. “Not that I know of. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Type hesitated. Maybe his dad didn’t know? But he couldn’t see how that was possible. He sat up and rubbed his hands against his shorts. “There were pictures… a few weeks ago…”

His dad looked even more confused and appeared to be thinking of something before a look of realization came over his face and he gave a small smile. “Type… your mother and I didn’t ask because we figured that if you wanted us to know, then you would tell us. You’re our son. We trust your judgement and we love you, okay?”

Type suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion. His heart squeezed in his chest and he closed his eyes, feeling as if something had been lifted off of him and he could actually breathe for the first time in his entire life. He didn’t even realize that he had never breathed before and he quickly wiped at his face as he felt a wetness form in his eyes, trying to rub away the tears before they began to fall. 

“I was just drunk…” He said weakly because he wasn’t ready to tell the truth, not yet, even with the knowledge of his father’s and mother’s love, he wasn’t ready to say it aloud. But he thought that might be okay. 

“It’s okay.” His father assured, sliding his arm around Type to pull him into a hug and Type, feeling somewhat like a child, turned his head in towards his father’s shoulder and just let the hug happen, needing it, accepting it, and feeling comforted by it. 

They stayed like that for a short while before Type managed to pull himself away, looking at his father with now red rimmed eyes, though he had managed to keep any tears from falling. Maybe he could talk to his dad. He didn’t need to tell him everything, all of the details, but he could talk to him. 

“Dad,” He started again, his father raising his brows not too dissimilar to Type’s own way of doing so. “If someone… betrayed your trust. If they… went behind your back to do something and then they later told you about it, would you forgive them?”

His father looked thoughtful, seeming to ponder the question for a moment before answering. “Well, I have to ask you. Did anyone get hurt because of what this person did?”

Type slowly shook his head. He couldn’t say that anyone had gotten hurt. Sure, he was a little hurt, a little upset that Tharn had lied, but he could understand why he had done it, and in the end, nothing that had happened from it made him all too upset. 

“Then why is it so difficult to forgive them so long as they don’t do it again?” His father had a point and Type sighed as he thought over his own feelings on it, trying to come up with an answer.

“I guess I’m mainly afraid that I can’t trust them to not do it again. If they’ve already done it once then…”

“But they told you about it. You didn’t find out about it on your own, right?” His father asked, making sure that he got the story straight.

Type looked over at him and nodded again, something clicking in the back of his mind. Tharn had told him. Type hadn’t figured it out. He never would’ve figured it out if Tharn hadn’t told him. 

His phone buzzed and he picked it up to look at it, taking in a sharp breath as the message flashed across his screen. It was from Tharn, an invite to his album launch party in just over a week. Type bit down on his lip.

“If that person told you about it, it means they felt guilty and were willing to ruin whatever relationship you have with them in order to be honest with you. I don’t think they’ll betray you like that again, Type. Not if they can help it.” 

His father’s words echoed in his mind and he looked over at his father with a small smile, feeling much more at ease with the clarity he had suddenly been given. “You’re so smart dad.”

His dad straightened his back and raised his chin with a good natured chuckle. “Of course I am. I hope I helped.”

“You did,” Type promised and then opened up his message with Tharn, smiling as he replied.

_i’ll think about it_


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are... the final chapter in the end of Act 1!! The next few chapters will be kinda interlude-ish and then we'll get right on back into the next phase of the story!!

Everything was almost in order and it was almost time. Though this wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, Tharn couldn’t help but to be a little bit nervous about this album launch. Maybe it was because he’d spent almost an entire week screwing up every single one of their songs that they were going to perform, or maybe it was just something else entirely, but Tharn couldn’t help but feel sick to his stomach as he thought about getting up on that stage. 

But their instruments were almost set, the lighting was almost ready, and people would be starting to be let in for the party to begin. They’d open up with one of their songs from the album as a sort of greeting and then the party would get under way. There’d be drinking and laughing and music and they’d air their new video and everything would go perfectly.

Almost. Type had never gotten back to him about whether or not he was going to attend for sure. Tharn put him on the list anyway, just in case. 

There were lots of people who would be showing up. People from the recording company, other artists, actors, but Tharn had a difficult time caring about any of them. None of them really mattered. It was all just business anyway. The fans’ opinion of the album was what mattered. 

And Type’s. He wanted to know what Type thought. 

He looked down at his hand where he held a signed copy from himself to the other. It was for just in case he decided to show up. Just in case he got another chance. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Tharn couldn’t help but to hold out at least a little bit of hope. 

“Hey, you okay?” Lhong asked as he stepped up beside him, leaning against the wall as stagehands moved about, preparing things for LBC.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Tharn asked in return, looking up from the album in his hand and over at his best friend who just gave a one-shouldered shrug. 

“Just checking to make sure that you don’t mess up so Tum won’t beat the shit out of you.” Lhong told him, but it was in a teasing manner and Tharn gave a small laugh, letting himself find the humor in it.

“I think Tum and I came to an understanding.” He looked over at Tum who was giving orders on where things go. Tum caught his gaze and his lips turned into a slight line before going back to ordering people around. Tharn gave a little shrug of his own. “At least for now.”

“Would hate to be you.” Lhong murmured, tilting his head against the wall and Tharn could feel his gaze on him, even as he looked back down at the album, turning it over in his hand. “You planning on giving that to someone?” Lhong’s voice was oddly serious. 

“Maybe.” Tharn murmured with a soft sigh. “If they show up.”

There was a moment of silence and Tharn looked up to see Lhong now looking down at his shoes, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Tharn gave a slow blink in confusion. “Now it’s my turn to ask if you’re okay, Ai’Lhong.”

The other man cleared his throat and shot him a smile, but there was a fakeness to it that Tharn had grown used to seeing through. “Of course I’m okay! And you know anyone would be crazy to turn you down.”

“Or maybe they’d be crazy to not turn me down.” Tharn suggested jokingly, pushing off of the wall and going over to his bag, carefully putting the album inside so that he wouldn’t lose it. Lhong watched from where he still stood. 

Tharn turned back towards his friend. “I guess we should help finish setting up, huh?” He suggested, automatically going to check and make sure his drum set was set up correctly. Even as he got busy, checking things over and talking with the people running about to see if there were any issues, his mind still lingered on Type, hoping beyond hope that the other man would show up tonight.

Soon, it was time, and everyone was being let into the club. The stage was darkened and Tharn stood off stage with the other four members of LBC, waiting for the go ahead to take the stage once people were settled around the venue they had chosen for the party. There was a strangely clammy feeling about Tharn, one that he remembered feeling back during the beginnings of LBC, right as they were starting to take off. He hadn’t felt it in awhile however, and he thought that perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Type might be somewhere out there among the guests.

He didn’t even know if Type had ever seen him play live before. He knew that Type was a fan of LBC, even if he denied it adamantly, he had learned this much from Kom. The fact that Type had an LBC poster somewhere in his room back home made Tharn smile. He wondered what it had looked like; Type’s face as a seventeen year old hanging the poser up on his wall.

Tharn bet it was cute.

A few moments later, they got the signal and then headed out onto the stage, carefully following the path that they had memorized before. It was pitch black and they could see practically nothing, but Tharn found his set easily enough and sat behind it, twirling his sticks in his hand before he got ready. 

He glanced around at the others, everyone shooting each other small nods before Lhong gestured offstage that they were ready. Tum began the song and slowly, lights lit up the stage and Tharn took in a deep breath and played. 

The song was a hit and Tharn couldn’t stop smiling as he and the others jumped from the stage to go greet everyone, the DJ beginning to play until LBC would take the stage again for their second song later. They’d be playing three songs from the album, the rest to be saved for when the album dropped the next day. 

Tharn was tugged in all sorts of directions, which is what he had expected but it still made him dizzy as one moment he was looking at a producer from the company and the next from some actor whose name he really should know but couldn’t quite remember in the moment.

There was no sign of Type.

He couldn’t help but feel a little bit disheartened when he noticed this, having to excuse himself and make his way over to the bar for a drink. He slid into the seat and ordered. Both men and women came up to him and he did his best not to be rude as he brushed them off and turned them down. Women he didn’t go for and he wasn’t in the mood for a random hook-up anymore. 

Maybe he was ruined for that for good. 

But also maybe he should. Maybe he should go find a guy, hit on him, and take him to a backroom closet and have his way with him. It’d get his mind off of Type, at least for a moment, and maybe it would help him move on. Type was something he might’ve been able to have, but he lost. There was no going back.

“Sorry I’m late.” A voice came from behind him and Tharn’s back stiffened, his heart lurching and leaping into his throat. There was no way… he was hearing things. 

He quickly turned, his eyes widening when he saw Type standing there, looking slightly awkward and shy, but smiling anyway. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and he wore an LBC shirt that they’d released during their last tour.

Tharn’s breath hitched.

Type looked down, picking at the edge of his shirt. “Figured I’d match the theme of the night. Be nice for once.” Type hummed and slid into the empty seat next to Tharn. Tharn only followed him with his eyes, still in disbelief that the person he had wanted to see the most was actually here. Type ordered a beer and then looked over at him, looking almost expectant. “You going to say hi or…? You did invite me.”

Tharn snapped out of it, shaking his head to get his brain working in order again. “You actually came. You didn’t RSVP so I didn’t think you would come.”

“To be honest,” Type took in a breath, placing his hands on the bar in front of him and leaned back a bit. “I still wasn’t sure until just before I decided to come. I brought Techno, by the way. I hope you don’t mind. He’s…” Type looked around himself and then shrugged. “Here somewhere. He’s been stressed out lately so I figured he could use some fun.”

“I don’t mind.” Tharn said quickly, truly not minding at all. He hadn’t really gotten to talk much to Techno yet, but he seemed to be a good friend to Type and that’s all that mattered to Tharn. “I’m glad you came.”

Type gave a small smile, looking shy again and Tharn had to admit that it was one of the cutest expressions he’d ever seen on a person. “I did a lot of thinking over the last few weeks. I also got back the photoshoot scans. Did you see them? They came out real good.”

Tharn had seen them. He’d spent at least a good hour looking at them. They’d chosen some beautiful photos of the two of them, although Tharn noticed that the kiss was absent, although there was one with Tharn a mere inch away from Type’s lips that had seemed to make the cut. 

“I saw them.” He replied carefully, unsure exactly of how he should reply to anything about the sponsorship, because Type hadn’t yet mentioned what he had decided to do about that, but Tharn didn’t want to bring it up himself, not yet. “I have something for you.” 

“For me?” Type asked, surprised and Tharn got up from the stool, grabbing Type’s wrist and tugging him away from the bar. “My beer--”

Tharn pulled him through the crowd and towards the back, pretending as if he didn’t hear people calling to him or seeing the way Lhong shot him a look as he passed him by, fingers wrapped tightly around Type’s wrist. 

They got to the back, the sounds of people having fun, of music playing all dimming just a bit and Tharn let go of Type’s wrist, walking over to his bag and unzipping it. He blinked as he saw the album wasn’t in there and then furrowed his brows in confusion. “I could’ve sworn I put it in here…” he murmured to himself, but was still loud enough for Type to hear. He shook his head. “I must have set it elsewhere and forgot, it’s not a big deal.”

He went over to a table where there were a few albums stacked for party go-ers and he grabbed one, uncapping a pen with his teeth and quickly scrawled across the cover of the album. Tharn then put the cap back onto the pen and dropped it on the table before picking it up and bringing it over to Type.

“Our new album. For you.” Type took the album from him and stared at it for a moment before turning it over to the back to look at the setlist.

There was a small smile on his lips, one that made Tharn’s heartbeat sped up in his chest. “My first signed LBC album…” Type noted, looking back up and lightly tapping it against Tharn’s chest. “I’ll make sure to keep it safe.” He set it down for a brief moment and then appeared to be hesitating for a moment before he said, “Actually, I got something for you too. Sort of like a congratulations gift.”

“For me?” Tharn blinked, surprised and he lowered himself down onto a speaker box that wasn’t in use. Type nodded, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small wrapped package. “I thought you weren’t even sure if you were going to come or not.”

“I wasn’t.” Type assured, lightly tapping the package in his hand before holding it out to Tharn who gently took it but didn’t yet open it. “But I saw this and I--well, open it.” Type lowered himself down next to him and their knees bumped together. Tharn tried not to smile at the slight touch as he opened the present.

His breath caught as he took the thin chain, pulling it up to see a pendant in the shape of a drum. It was a beautiful silver and white, light enough that it wouldn’t be bothersome, but heavy enough for Tharn to know that it wasn’t super cheap either. 

“It’s perfect.” Tharn said softly, clearing his throat to try and keep the emotion from his voice. “I want to put it on.”

Type looked at him for a moment before taking the necklace and unclasping it. “Let me help.” Tharn just stared at him as Type moved in towards him. He could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears and his eyes almost went crossed as they tried to focus on Type as he reached around him, his head peering over his shoulder. He could feel Type’s hair brush against his face, the soft smell reminding Tharn of mountains wafting through his nostrils. Breath hit his neck and fingers brushed the back of his neck as Type clasped the necklace back in place. There was a brief moment of pause as Type hovered there before he pulled away, his own face looking slightly pink as he rested backwards on his hands.

“It suits you.” Type told him and Tharn looked down, picking up the pendant that now hung around his neck, a comfortable weight that Tharn would keep on forever. 

“I love it.” Tharn assured again and then looked up at Type. Their eyes met and Tharn wondered if Type could hear his question through his gaze. Apparently he did.

“I forgive you.” Type said suddenly and Tharn felt so much relief that it took everything he had not to rush forward and hug the other man. “You might have lied to me, but you came clean and… I’ve decided to give you another chance. But you better not fucking lie to me again.” Type told him with a glare and Tharn quickly nodded his promises.

“Never again. I wouldn’t even dream of it.” And he was being honest and Type stared at him before nodding, seeming to sense the honesty.

“I want to be friends.” Type continued, biting down on his lip as he glanced away and down at his knees. “Like… actual friends.” He looked up beneath his lashes that were so dark and long and highlighted his eyes rather than hid him. “We can continue the sponsorship and I’ll get serious about it. We can do our… fake dating thing for our social media and promotions, but I want to be actual friends and we can hang out like actual friends. Is that okay?”

Tharn smiled widely, his heart soaring because that was more than okay. It was more than he expected and he really, truly couldn’t ask for anything else. “I can agree with that. 100%. Whatever you want, we can do, Type.”

Type raised his head a bit. “Good. So you’ll be following my lead. I’m in charge. If I want to do something, we do it. You can suggest things though, don’t worry.”

“It’s a deal.” Tharn said without even thinking about it and then, no longer able to hold himself back, he shot forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Type. Type seemed to hesitate and Tharn was going to pull away before he felt arms wrapping around him too.

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes and relaxed, Type’s hand lightly patting at his back. Type nudged his own head into his shoulder and Tharn could feel his breath again and he enjoyed it, wishing that he could always feel it like this, wishing that he could always be like this with Type.

Friends, Tharn thought. It’s a step.


	26. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a cute chapter for you guys! I think you'll enjoy.
> 
> A few notes, if any of you guys have a twitter, my twitter is @BTS_envy and I'd looooove to talk and make more friends. If you follow me and let me know, I'll follow you back!! 
> 
> And, also, stream Black Swan by BTS, the only song ever! lol enjoy the chapter!

_ Friends,  _ Type thought.  _ It’s a step. _

The song  _ ‘Overcast’  _ off of LBC’s new album reverbated off of the walls as Type lay on his back on his bed, flipping through the pages of the photobook. He quickly skimmed through the pages of four of the members, stopping each time he got to a picture of Tharn to gaze at it for at least a good minute or so before moving on.

He’d decided on what and how he could forgive Tharn. He could forgive him by going back to being friends. But this time it would be real. This time things would be more natural and he wouldn’t be forcing himself to enjoy something or not enjoy something. Type was going to let his feelings happen, without fighting them. It was certainly a big step for him as it wasn’t something he normally did, but he had set his mind to it and he was stubborn, so there was no way he could go back on his decision. 

Besides, he wasn’t quite ready to be more than friends with Tharn. 

There was a multitude of reasons for this. The big one being that Type didn’t think he was actually prepared for what it meant to be with another man. He’d spent so long denying the truth he’d known deep down, using homophobia as a defense, that whenever he thought of telling people that he was actually dating a guy, despite all the bullshit he’d spewed, he felt nervous and ashamed and embarrassed. He needed to get over that fear first.

The second being was that he just didn’t completely trust Tharn, not yet. But he was going to let Tharn prove himself again and that was the whole point of being friends. Type could do friends. He had plenty of them. He had Champ and Techno and Kom--well. He thought he had Kom still, but he hadn’t heard from him. His heart ached a little when he thought about their friendship possibly ending, but Kom wouldn’t answer his messages and Type wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do on that end. 

The ball was in Kom’s court. If he wanted it. 

Type decided not to think about that though, instead focusing on the music that surrounded him and the picture of Tharn in front of him. Tharn was dressed in a button down dress shirt, not dissimilar to the ones that Type had worn back in college. His thumb ring on full display as he crossed his arms and rested his drumsticks on the opposite shoulder that held them. Skin peaked out through the top two buttons that weren’t done up and the front was tucked into a tight pair of dark jeans. A small smirk teased at his lips and Type had to swallow tightly and try to control his breathing before he quickly flipped to the next page. 

Staring at these pictures of Tharn for too long didn’t do him all that much good in thinking of him just as a friend. 

He set the photobook down beside him and reached over to the pillow beside his head, picking up his phone. It was fairly late, the party not having ended until close to 1am. It was 3 now and for all Type knew, Tharn could be sleeping.

**Type** **  
** _ did u get home ok? _

Type quickly sent the message and then lay it face down on his stomach and stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes. Why was just texting Tharn in this friendly way setting his nerves on edge? Besides, now that he had asked, the answer would likely bug him until he got a reply and there was no way that Tharn was awake at this time--

His phone buzzed.

**Tharn** **  
** _ Yeah _ _   
_ _ i just walked in. had to get our stuff 2gether _ _   
_ _ u still awake? _

Just staring at the messages brought a smile to Type’s face. 

**Type** **  
** _ cant sleep so im listening to ur album _

_ it sux  _ _   
_ _ :)  _

**Tharn** **  
** _ happy to hear such wonderful compliments from a music critic such as urself _ _   
_ _ wat do u hate about it most? _ _   
_ _ :)  _

**Type** **  
** _ overcast is a horrible song _

**Tharn** **  
** _ i knew u would hate it _ _   
_ _ hey type u shuld get sum sleep ok?  _ _   
_ _ its rly late _ _   
_ _ do u have practice tomorrow? _

**Type** **  
** _ its a day off _ _   
_ _ Uh _ _   
_ _ u wanna hang? _ _   
_ _ we can take sum photos for ig _ _   
_ _ we hvnt in awhile _ _   
_ _ bet ur fangirls r thirsty _ _   
_ _ pervs  _

**Tharn** **  
** _ im free tomorrow. was there smth u wanted to do? _

**Type** **  
** _ ill think about it. _ _   
_ _ just pick me up at 2 _ _   
_ _ gn  _

**Tharn** **  
** _ goodnight Type _

Type didn’t want to appear too eager, so the next day, instead of waiting outside for Tharn to pick him up, he waited in his apartment like a normal person. However, unlike a normal person, he was peeking out of the window every couple of minutes and then checking the time on his phone just to make sure that Tharn hadn’t decided that maybe Type just wasn’t worth all this effort.

The idea made Type grumble to himself. Shouldn’t that be the other way around?

But he didn’t have to think on it too much because the next moment, he saw Tharn’s car parking down below and tried to control himself before he went running downstairs. There was no way he could give Tharn the satisfaction of knowing that he wanted to see him. No--he must wait for Tharn to call him to come downstairs. 

But Tharn didn’t call him and Type was getting a little jittery until there was a knock on his door. He blinked and turned his head before quickly going over to pull it open, a smiling Tharn standing there waiting for him.

His breath caught for a moment, taking in the casual look that the drummer donned. A jean jacket over a light blue shirt and jeans that hugged his legs oh so nicely--and Type quickly looked upwards, trying to focus on Tharn’s  _ face  _ and not on, well--other things.

“May I use your bathroom?” Tharn asked and Type looked at him before giving a slow nod and letting Tharn into his apartment.

Tharn looked around and Type realized that the other man hadn’t been in it before and he was suddenly very thankful that the place was clean. He pointed over in the direction of the bathroom. “It’s there. And hurry because we have a movie to catch in thirty minutes.”

“Got it,” Tharn nodded with a grin. “Hurrying.” He turned and walked into the bathroom and Type let out a breath, inwardly cursing himself for being so nervous.

Seriously. How was he supposed to stay friends with the guy if his heart kept beating like crazy every time he got near? He shook his head and checked his pockets, making sure that he had both his phone and his wallet and a few moments later, Tharn came out of the bathroom. 

“Nice place.” Tharn commented and Type just gave a kind of awkward smile before leading the other to the door. “So what movie are we seeing?”

“Horror--you can handle horror, right?” Type asked, raising his brows, suddenly the thought that it wouldn’t be so bad if Tharn couldn’t handle horror and needed comforting during the movie.

_ Friends, friends, friends, _ he told himself firmly.

“I can handle horror.” Tharn assured and Type hummed with a small nod, trying to hide his slight disappointment over that. 

“Did you fix the seat belt yet?” Type asked as they climbed into Tharn’s car. Tharn let out a deep chuckle, so deep that Type himself could almost feel it bouncing off his bones. Or maybe he was imagining it. Definitely probably the case, but it still felt nice.

“You just have to click and tug and it comes out no problem.” Tharn told him, buckling his own seatbelt and now that Type knew, there’d be no excuse for Tharn to help him take it off again. That was… good, wasn’t it?

They started off towards the nearest theater and Type leaned forward, messing with the radio for a moment. Unsurprisingly, when he turned it on, LBC’s new album blasted. He glanced sideways, noticing the blush that crept across Tharn’s face and held in a smile as he leaned back into his seat.

“Thought you hated LBC? You want to listen to us now?” Tharn still managed to tease, despite his own embarrassment.

Type gave a small huff and shot him a glare. “You guys suck, but considering the album just came out, I thought I’d be nice and let it play instead of playing your competitors.”

“That’s so uncharacteristically nice of you, Ai’Type.”

“Are you saying I’m not nice?” There was no answer and Type looked over to see a smile playing at Tharn’s lips and he glared even more harshly, but there was no real malice behind it. “If you weren’t driving, I would hit you. Maybe kick you. My kick is stronger than my punch.”

Tharn actually gave a slight grimace. “That’s not surprising for someone who kicks balls for a living.”

“I’ll kick your balls, asshole.” Type cursed and huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and Tharn gave another laugh. Type had to turn so completely to look out the window in order to hide his smile. 

Soon, they got to the theater and headed inside. A few people seemed to recognize them, taking a few pictures to undoubtedly post them online. Type gave a small sigh, but when he looked at Tharn, he didn’t even seem to notice. The guy really was used to this huh?

“I’ll get the tickets,” Type offered. “If you get the snacks.”

Tharn seemed to think over it for a brief moment, eyeing him up and Type felt a small shiver trail down his spine. “Deal.” Type smiled and turned towards the lady at the counter, getting two tickets. They then got their snacks and drinks and made their way into the dark theater, heading up towards the back where it was thankfully fairly empty.

There was still just enough light…

Type raised his hips up slightly, digging into his pocket carefully as he could so that he wouldn’t spill the drink and tugged out his phone. “Let’s take a picture.” He suggested, not failing to notice the slight surprise on Tharn’s face when he did. “For IG.” He clarified quickly, almost stumbling over his words.

“Good idea,” Tharn agreed and then, before Type knew it, an arm was slung over his shoulder and he was pulled in close. He breathed slowly, trying to calm himself and not turn red right before this photo. Tharn did a little peace sign and Type decided to match him, their heads leaned in close together. He quickly took the photo and then reluctantly pulled away, Tharn’s hand sliding along the back of his shoulders before dropping down onto the arm rest.

Type looked it over with a small smile and then closed out of his phone and put it back in his pocket. “I’ll upload it later.” He grabbed his drink and sipped at it in order to keep his mouth busy so that he didn’t say anything more and reveal just how much he liked the photo, but then the screen blasted on and the previews began. 

Tharn, it ended up, did have a few issues with horror. 

Mostly it was the gore, Tharn would grimace and turn his face away and he’d end up looking at Type and Type would lose his breath and forget to focus on the movie. It was a bit of a problem because he had actually wanted to see this movie, but every time Tharn turned his head away, he’d seem to get a little bit closer to Type, their arms almost touching and Type realized halfway through the movie that he had absolutely no idea what was going on because the only thing he was focusing on was Tharn.

He took a handful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth, eyeing Tharn before whispering to him. “Didn’t realize you had such a big problem with gore.”

“Me neither.” Tharn muttered back, wincing again as a character got their head sawed off. “You like these types of movies?”

“I play a lot of these sorts of games with No. They’re all really gory.” Type shrugged, looking the other over in slight amusement. “Next time I’ll you can’t handle this sort of thing and we’ll go see a kid’s movie. How does that sound?”

Tharn gave him a look. “I can handle it fine enough. No need to go see a kid’s movie. Besides, you’re more childish than I am.”

“Am not!” Type pouted, glaring at someone who turned their head around to shush them and when he next looked at Tharn, the man was covering his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried not to laugh. “Hey… you asshole, Tharn.” He huffed, taking some more popcorn but this time throwing it at the other’s face.

Tharn gaped at him and then did the same.

“Hey…” Type whined, brushing the popcorn from him, the feeling of butter and salt seeping into his pores.

“You did it first.” Tharn pointed out, that smile teasing at his lips and Type felt it hard to even pretend to be angry at him. 

“Pay attention to the movie.” He told him hypocritically, because he was also not paying attention to the movie.

“Yes, sir,” Tharn replied back and Type hid his smile in his drink.

Once the movie was over, the two of them slowly made their way to Tharn’s car in a comfortable silence. Tharn played with his keys in his hand and Type quietly thought to himself. The sun was still high in the sky, but within a few hours it would begin to set. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner. He glanced over at Tharn as they reached the car.

“Do you want to come over?” Type asked suddenly, Tharn pausing in his movements only to look up at him. Type felt suddenly insecure as Tharn’s eyes glanced across his face and he hoped there were no popcorn kernals stuck in his teeth. “We can hang out, order dinner later. Chat--I mean, we barely know each other right? Shouldn’t fake boyfriends know each other better?” He suggested, trying to pretend as if he hadn’t felt his heart flip at the word ‘boyfriends’. 

Tharn seemed to be thoughtful for a moment before nodding and smiling. “I didn’t have any plans later anyway, so sounds good to me.” He climbed into the car and Type let himself smile widely while Tharn couldn’t see before clearing it from his face and climbing into the passenger’s seat.

The two of them then headed back towards Type’s apartment and Type couldn’t quell the nervous feeling that was beginning to grow in his chest. _   
_ _   
  
_

  
  



	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay heads up, I have officially changed the rating of this fic to EXPLICIT (don't get your hopes up, there's no sex scenes... yet, but they're coming ;) ) 
> 
> I decided to do it ahead of time so ya'll know. Now I can't force any underage ppl to NOT continue reading this fic once it gets to those parts but you know... be smart, etc etc And enjoy!
> 
> And next chapter... next chapter it begins again. (what begins? well you'll find out tomorrow! see you then!)

“Your sister is so much younger than you.” Type lay on his back, his hands resting on his full stomach as he stared up at the ceiling of his apartment. Tharn lay with him, practically above him, but also on the ground. Tharn’s head was directly opposite Type’s making is so that Type would have to crane his neck upwards in order to see the other. It was better this way however, made it easier to talk without Type having to worry about what his face might look like. 

Empty cartons of food lay beside them, neither having the energy or want to get up just yet to throw them away. They’d been playing a game and it was playing the loading sequence on repeat, but it didn’t bother either of them as Type had muted the tv so that the two could just lay there and talk.

And this was fine. This was actually fun and Type got to ask questions and actually be interested instead of pretending that he wasn’t because this was for work. You know, just in case someone decided to ask him something about Tharn. They were dating after all. At least, they were supposed to make it look like they were to the internet and to the world. 

“It was a little weird at the time.” Tharn told him. “I was twelve and about to be a teenager and suddenly I had a little sister and during that time well… I was struggling with myself and would be for another few years. But once she was born, I fell in love. P’Thorn and I both did. Thanya is one of the best things we’ve ever been given.”

“I can’t imagine it.” Type mused, blinking up at the ceiling. “I mean, it seems nice, but I think I enjoyed being an only child growing up too much to ever want a sibling. Although… sometimes I can’t help but feel guilty. I’ve been really selfish, choosing soccer over the resort and now my dad won’t have any choice but to give it to someone outside of the family one day. And also…” he let his voice trail off at that, not ready to say it aloud. If Tharn was curious what he was going to say, he didn’t show it, and he didn’t ask.

“Well, some people are better off as an only child. I was never an only child. I always had P’Thorn there so I don’t know what it’s like, but I don’t think I’d like it. I love Thanya and P’Thorn has been there for me through some… really tough times. I can’t imagine having gotten through them without him.” 

Type wanted to ask, but he didn’t, deciding that if Tharn wanted to tell him, then he would. It wasn’t his business anyway, it was private. “All of my friends seem to have siblings. Techno has a little brother and Kom has an older sister.”

“Lhong also has siblings. An older brother and sister, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at him. I know his parents are always incredibly busy, but he never really talks about them or his siblings all that much. I think I only met them a couple of times. But I consider him a second brother. He’s always been there for me too.”

Type suddenly remembered the photographs on Tharn’s walls, of the way that Lhong would be looking at him with clear love in every single one of them. It didn’t seem Tharn knew at all how Lhong really felt, but Type had been able to tell just from a few glimpses at some pictures. 

“So you and Lhong have been best friends for how long?” Type asked slowly, trying not to seem too interested in the answer. 

“Since we were about fourteen, right around the time I really started questioning myself. We both bonded a lot over music and started a band up pretty quickly with some others and then well… you know from there. Here we are. But we didn’t even get popular until we were already twenty. Took three years of putting out music before people actually liked us. Except you, with the LBC poster on your wall back home.”

“I’m seriously going to kill Kom for telling you that.” Type promised. He would if Kom ever talked to him again anyway. 

Tharn laughed and the sound made Type smile, a warmth spreading through himself. “So--and you don’t have to answer. Have you dated a lot of guys? You figured it out as a teenager and you’re twenty-four now…”

The other man got quiet and Type wondered if he shouldn’t have asked that at all.

“I’ve dated a bit.” Tharn answered after a moment, his voice sounding somewhat distant to Type’s ears, as if he were in deep thought. “Actually, P’San is the one who helped me figure out I was gay. Kinda.”

Type rolled over onto his stomach, looking at Tharn who peered up at him now that his face was in view. “You dated your manager?”

Tharn gave a little smile, although it almost looked like a frown from upside down. “I don’t know if date was the right word.” Tharn pressed his hands into the floor and then pushed himself up, moving into a cross-legged position to face Type. Type did the same, grabbing a pillow to hug at. “He was a senior when I was 14, and also my brother’s best friend. He took care of me. I was being bullied and he was this cool, stronger, upperclassman that my brother asked to help me out. He helped me with music. We got close. And he was good looking and I had a little bit of a crush and he could sense it. So he asked if I wanted to have sex with him… I agreed.”

He leaned against the coffee table, trying to take all of this information in before looking at Tharn, flabbergasted. “A senior asked a 14 year old if they want to have sex?” Type felt vaguely ill and wondered if it showed, wondered if Tharn really didn’t see anything wrong with that at all.

“Is it really that weird?” Tharn asked, rubbing at his neck and looking a little ashamed. “P’Thorn found out afterwards somehow and actually punched him. Might have done more if I didn’t say that I wasn’t forced or anything. I wasn’t. He asked, I said yes, we had sex, the end. I didn’t like it. Like parts felt good and other parts didn’t. Next time I tried topping someone and that was a lot better.”

Type was quiet, thinking to himself. He wondered if maybe it hadn’t been the fact that Tharn had been on the bottom so much as that, instinctively, a part of himself knew how wrong it was for someone so much older to be touching him in that way. It made him feel uneasy, especially because P’San had such an important part of his life even to this day. It didn’t feel right, but it also wasn’t Type’s business to butt in. 

“But you didn’t date him?”

Tharn quickly shook his head. “I have absolutely no feelings for him in that way. He knows it too. But he still cares about me. He won’t do anything wrong towards me.” Tharn looked a little thoughtful at his own words and Type held back his question.

“So what about boyfriends?”

Tharn picked up another pillow and hugged it tightly to his chest, giving a small, sad smile and then shrugged. “Most didn’t last long. A few months. From high school to now. They all end up breaking up with me for some reason. My last relationship was about eight months ago. We dated for a month and then I just didn’t hear from them again. Actually really liked them too, so it hurt but…” he shrugged again and forced a laugh. “It’s nothing new.”

Something struck Type about this as strange as well. So many people had gotten a chance to date the drummer of LBC and they just… ghost him? They leave? Break-up? Type couldn’t see why. Despite tricking him into this sponsorship deal, Tharn had never been anything but nice towards Type. He seemed like a genuinely good person.

“There was this one guy though. Back in high school…” a small smile came over Tharn’s face as he spoke and Type suddenly felt the urge to say that he didn’t have to tell him anymore. He didn’t want to hear anymore, but he said nothing, also much too curious over what kind of person could have this effect years later on Tharn. “He was a couple of years younger, and this was right before we released our first single. He suddenly confessed to me one day and, honestly, I had always thought he was really cute. He was so forward too, and brave, because it wasn’t like I’d ever made a move on him. I was never even planning to. But when he asked I decided why not? So I said yes and we went out and then we kept going out and we dated for a year.”

Type’s lips parted in light shock at the length of time and then he closed his mouth and looked down at his hands gripping tightly at the pillow. 

“We dated after we released Be Mine and I really couldn’t be happier.” Tharn’s voice was again distant, but this time he was reminiscing about something pleasant. “I was pretty in love with him, but…” he then let out a deep sigh. “He followed his own dream to France. He wants to be a French chef. He’s about to graduate, actually. But he broke up with me because he didn’t want to hold me back. I didn’t want to break up, but he refused and that was--a really long time ago. And… he was Tum’s younger brother.”

“Tum… as in your guitarist?” Type asked in shock, his head beginning to hurt and Tharn gave an embarrassed smile and nod. “You dated your guitarist’s little brother… this didn’t cause issues?”

“Well…” Tharn hesitated. “Tum and I don’t exactly get along. We just pretend we do for camera’s sake. Rather, he doesn’t like me.”

Type tried to take in all of the information swirling through his head. He’d just learned so much about Tharn in such a short period of time, and they were perhaps things he could’ve done better without knowing, but he was also glad to know, glad to know about Tharn’s ex’s. 

He had really gone through a lot, huh?

“I’ve dated a few girls…” Type told him slowly. “But they never lasted long and I was never heartbroken when we broke up and I never cared about them in that way. I haven’t cared for anyone like that.” It was true. He hadn’t. He’d never fallen in love before, barely even knew what it meant to fall in love, what it felt like. But Tharn so clearly had. He could see it on the way that Tharn talked about his ex. Tharn had loved him deeply.

He was still in love with him.

“I’m going to clean this up.” He said suddenly, standing and gathering up all of the containers, trying to distract himself from his feelings, from the part of himself that felt hurt because Type felt that maybe, one day, he could fall in love with Tharn.

But could Tharn fall in love with someone while he wasn’t even over his ex? He didn’t even seem to realize it. 

Type quickly made his way over to the kitchen, tossing everything in the trash and then just stood there because that distraction hadn’t lasted very long at all. 

“It’s getting late anyway.” Tharn said as he pushed himself up from the ground. “You probably want your rest, right?” Tharn asked as he walked over to the kitchen area, leaning against the counter in a way that made Type want to blush. 

“It’s not… that late.” He said weakly, glancing over at the clock only to see yeah, it was kinda late. “Oh.” He scratched at his neck. “It’s later than I thought.”

Tharn just smiled at him. “A bit. We kind of lost some time there, but I had a lot of fun hanging out with you, Type.” Type couldn’t fight the smile that spread over his face, wasn’t sure if he even wanted to and then he nodded, tapping his fingers against the counter.

“I have practice tomorrow until 4pm.” Type told him unprompted, looking thoughtful. “But if you want to grab some dinner afterwards…”

Tharn seemed to be watching him closely, almost carefully and Type wondered if it was too much; to spend two days in a row together. Three, if he wanted to count the party for LBC’s album. 

But then Tharn slowly nodded after thinking for a moment. “I can do dinner. Maybe around 6? I have rehearsal too, but we can go to dinner if you want to meet me somewhere.”

“Sounds good.” Type told him, letting out a breath. “Just Line me the details?”

“I will.” Tharn promised before grabbing his jacket as well as the rest of his stuff and then going over to slide on his shoes. Type followed him over to the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts and trying to pretend as if he didn’t itch to touch him in some way.

“Drive safe. Don’t get into an accident. Sort of you need you to continue this sponsorship.” Type told him and Tharn shot him a grin.

“Aa, I promise not to get into an accident so you don’t lose out on all that money.”

“Good.” Type smirked and then Tharn told him he’d message him tomorrow before turning to leave out the door. Type tried to control the overwhelming disappointment at seeing him walk off, but then tried to remember that he’d get to spend time again with him tomorrow.

He just really needed to get used to being ‘friends’ with Tharn.


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to upload a little bit early ;)
> 
> And here we go... the next (could it possibly be the last?) hurdle to get through...

February faded away into March in a blur of soccer practice, band rehearsals, and fake dates that were less fake dates and more just friends hanging out and acting way too close to be just friends. If someone were to ask Type about this, however, he would deny it totally and completely. Tharn was just a friend. It didn’t matter that sometimes their touches lingered, or that feeding each other off their plates was now becoming the norm.

It didn’t matter that more often than not, they could be found sleeping over at each other’s apartments, and sure, maybe they weren’t teenagers, but who said adults couldn’t have a two man slumber party? It was perfectly okay, the way that Type would wake up in the middle of the night and have Tharn’s arm slung around him as he curled up against his chest. The smile that came over Type’s face whenever this happened was purely because he was thankful to have such a good friend.

The way his heart skipped beats and his skin flushed pink was completely normal behavior for a person to have around their friends. He would go to his grave saying this and nobody would be able to get him to admit otherwise.

Out loud anyway.

Inside, Type knew. It was difficult to deny when he knew himself how hard it was to pull his eyes away from Tharn. It didn’t matter if Tharn was sleeping or awake, it didn’t matter if Tharn’s mouth was full of food or he was chatting up a storm. His eyes were stuck to the other and there was no pulling them away anymore.

As far as he knew, Tharn hadn’t noticed. He hoped that it stayed that way, because he didn’t know what he would say otherwise. He couldn’t exactly tell Tharn the truth, it could ruin things.

That was the one thing Type absolutely could not do. He couldn’t tell Tharn that he was falling in love with him.

There was only one part of his day in which he could get away from this inherent fact of his life and that was soccer practice. But it still sometimes crept into his thoughts as he stood in line, waiting for his turn to jump through the tires and then the next thing he knew, Techno was nudging and teasing him and Aksornpan was giving him a knowing smirk, as if he could read Type’s mind.

It made Type uncomfortable, but Aksornpan had said nothing since that day way back, keeping mostly to himself other than looks and if that was all it was, Type would keep his temper in check, if only for the sake of the team.

They had matches coming up. The season was starting and he didn’t have time to afford on Aksornpan anyway. They had a real shot at winning this year and Type didn’t want to let anything stand in his--their--way of getting that championship. So he buckled down and committed and got to training as hard as he could. He could feel himself improving a bit each day, even taking his days off to head to the gym and do some work-outs on his own time. Normally, Techno would join him, saying he wanted to be anywhere but at home.

Type questioned this because, usually, Techno preferred being at home on his off days during the season, too tired to do anything much other than eat, sleep, and play video games, but the stress that had been piling on Techno over the last few weeks seemed to be all of a sudden to a much larger degree. At first he had thought he had imagined it, but there would be times when he and Techno would be out somewhere and suddenly look stiff and Type would quickly turn his head to find Techno’s fansite ducking around a corner.

He’d asked once if Techno wanted him to go beat the guy up, but Techno had shot it down, saying it would only get Type in trouble and it was best to just ignore him and hopefully the problem would go away. That had been a few weeks ago and apparently it hadn’t gone away. Type felt bad, wishing that he could help his friend, but he let Techno join him whenever he was free, and the rest of the time he spent with Tharn.

The photo spread for Consort had been released and the internet had gone crazy, talking about it being one of the most daring photoshoots in the last few years. Type didn’t know if he would go that far, but--as he looked at the photos--even he couldn’t deny the obvious electricity shooting off between him and Tharn. Perhaps he had hidden a copy of the magazine in a drawer in his apartment to look at. He hoped that Tharn would never find it. 

Shippers were also more wild than ever and Tharn and Type fairly regularly went onto instagram live. It would mostly consist of them talking to fans, vaguely avoiding answering whether or not they’re dating, but making it clear that they were very close. Type would have something imaginary on his mouth or cheek and Tharn would wipe at it with his thumb, or Type would drape himself around Tharn’s shoulders and they’d tease each other, as if they were the only two people in the world.

And some days, Type forgot that wasn’t the case. Some days, Type forgot this was all fake and all for show and could let himself believe it was real for just a moment. And then the video would turn off and he’d be forced to pull himself away from Tharn for the sake of their friendship and Tharn would appear unaffected and Type would just gaze at him with curiosity.

He hadn’t imagined that Tharn had had actual feelings for him before, had he? 

If Tharn did, it no longer seemed as if he did. Tharn was a perfect example of ‘doing it for the cameras’. He wouldn’t touch Type off camera unless Type was the initiator, keeping to his own little bubble of personal space. He’d smile at him and joke with him, but there was no longer a lingering gaze towards him that had Type panicking about what if Tharn would suddenly kiss him. 

Type felt like a friend--just a friend.

He supposed that had been what he had wanted, but--even he had to admit to himself that what he had wanted was a chance to really get to know Tharn, to come to trust Tharn again. He did trust Tharn, but now he felt as if his opportunity, his moment, had passed. If he were to confess now, would Tharn even feel the same any longer?

He hated that he was so insecure. He wasn’t used to it and he didn’t like it, and Tharn had made him this way. Or maybe he had made himself this way. 

-

Tharn was very much aware of Type lying next to him in his bed and, as he stared up at the ceiling of his apartment which was where they had decided to spend the night this time, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. 

His eyes flickered over to the sleeping figure, looking uncharacteristically peaceful, before going back to staring at the ceiling.

The last month had been quite something. Tharn was fairly proud of himself for controlling his feelings and not letting them grow too much. At least he thought not. He and Type were just friends and, if Tharn were honest, he was actually pretty content with that. Being friends was easy, comfortable, and he enjoyed having Type around. He had fun with him and being friends was definitely better than nothing. There were even times when he forgot about his feelings for Type completely, which was somehow amazing, and maybe it proved that Tharn really was actually getting over Type.

And then there were moments like these where they slept in each other’s beds, it being too late for the visiting person to head home (at least, that was the excuse). Even though they were at least a good foot or more away, Tharn was very much aware of the body heat that Type was letting off as he curled up beneath the blanket, the edge of it pulled up to his chin. He looked like an innocent child in his sleep and Tharn found himself wanting to take a picture.

He held off on that strange urge however and felt proud of himself for managing it. He then slowly and carefully inched his way out of the bed, making sure not to wake Type, and headed down the hall and towards the kitchen.

Tharn didn’t turn any lights on, not wanting to wake the sleeping man in his bed and opened the fridge to grab some water, hoping that maybe it would cure the dryness of his mouth and he could actually manage to fall asleep. 

When it didn’t work, he replaced the bottle back into the fridge with a soft sigh and went to use the bathroom before returning back into bed.

Type was in the exact same position as when he left him, although now there was a furrow between his brows. The moment the bed dipped and Tharn slid back beneath the covers, the furrow disappeared and Type seemed to relax.

It was easy to see that Type was an only child; even in his sleep he was so very spoiled. 

Tharn reached over his bed and grabbed his phone, turning it on to see that it was just passed one in the morning. Setting it back down on the table, he pulled the covers up as well and rolled over onto his side to face away from Type. If he couldn’t see him, maybe he could forget that he was there and actually manage to fall asleep. 

It seemed to work, because the next thing Tharn knew his alarm was going off and it was seven am. 

The smell of something from the kitchen roused him a bit more eagerly and he shifted around to see the bed beside him empty. He blinked and looked off towards his open door. Was Type cooking?

He gave a yawn and rubbed at his hair before he pulled himself free from the bed and headed in towards the kitchen to see Type with his back turned looking as if he were concentrating very hard on whatever he was doing. Tharn gave a small smile and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I thought you didn’t cook.”

Type jumped, cursing and then turned around with a glare set on his face and Tharn couldn’t help but laugh. “Shit, Ai’Tharn… don’t sneak up on me.” 

Tharn just shrugged, smiling teasingly. “You’re the one not paying attention. What are you making? Is it safe?”

The other rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. “It’s just rice--and an omelet. I can at least do simple things like this. Go wash up because it’s almost done.” Tharn didn’t move, just looking at him and Type gave him an annoyed, impatient look, waving his hand as if to shoo him off. “Go.”

Chuckling a little, Tharn turned and went to get ready for the morning. When he returned, the table was set and Type was scrolling through his phone, waiting for him. Tharn lowered himself down into the seat opposite him, grabbing the orange juice that Type had apparently pulled from the fridge to pour into their cups and sipped at it. 

“Thanks for this. I don’t actually know when the last time I had an actual breakfast was.” Tharn mused honestly, always much too busy to worry about food until he got to the studio to rehearse.

“Coach makes sure we made it a habit to eat breakfast. We’re not at our best if we don’t eat. But normally I just buy something on the way and eat it because I can’t be bothered to learn to cook more than this.” Type told him, taking a bite of the rice and omelet and Tharn followed suite, giving him an appreciative thumbs up. It was good. 

“What are your plans for today?” Tharn asked, taking another bite. 

“I’m going to go hang out with No. Lately he seems kinda…” Type seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Just like he could use some company. What about you?”

“Same. Well--no. I’m not going to hang out with No. Lhong is coming over and we’re going to work on a song.”

“Didn’t you just release an album?” Type questioned, looking at him incredulously which caused Tharn to give a laugh, almost choking on his food so he had to pick up his juice to drink from it before replying.

“Creativity never stops. Do you stop practicing just because you won a match?”

A look of understanding came over Type’s face. “Okay, point.” 

Tharn just grinned and the two of them ate on. Afterwards, they watched the dishes together. It would be the perfect example of domestic bliss if the two of them weren’t just friends, but they were just friends and Tharn was okay with that. He had to be okay with that. 

Soon it came time for Type to head out and Tharn leaned against the door as Type hovered just outside in the hall of the apartment, his hand on his bag, looking as if he wanted to say something. Tharn raised a brow. “You okay?”

“What?” Type asked quickly before shaking his head. “Yeah, of course. Uh--I’ll Line you later?” And with that, Type turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Tharn looking after him in confusion, but there was a small smile danced at his lips and then he turned and went back inside himself.

-

“Please remain seated until the plane has completely come to a halt and the seatbelt light turns off, thank you.” Said the overhead lady and even though this was the case, people surrounding him all began to gather up their things, eager to be the first one out of their seats and to their luggage.

He wasn’t in a hurry though, instead keeping his head turned towards the window, watching as the plane circled in the air through the light amount of clouds, waiting for the okay to go ahead and land once the strip was clear. 

Bangkok. It’d been awhile since he had seen it and there was a warm feeling growing in his chest and a smile that spread, even though it was mixed with a slight sadness as well. It was nice to be back home, but he hated having to leave the place he had come to call home over the last few years. Still, there were many people here that he had missed, and he couldn’t wait to see them.

About ten minutes later, the lights dinged off and all at once, people jumped from their seats. He remained seated himself, instead turning on his phone and sending a few messages now that he was no longer in the air.

Once the plane began to clear out, he pulled himself from the seat with a stretch, eager to finally be standing after a twelve hour flight. He reached up, carefully pulling his carry-on from the overhead compartment, thanking the man who helped him when it got stuck--and he almost forgot to revert back to Thai when he did which made him feel very embarrassed, but he brushed it off and hurried from the plane.

The airport was busy and it took awhile to get through customs, but the standing was nice so he didn’t mind it so much. Once he was through, he headed towards the exit, trying to stop himself from running in his eagerness, but that was difficult, and towards the end he had brought himself to a slight jog.

And that’s when he heard a familiar voice calling to him.

“Hey! Hey, over here!” He turned his head to the right and beamed when he saw the familiar face smiling at him, a face he hadn’t seen in person in such a long time. How he felt was how the other looked and the two of them at once began running towards each other.

He dropped his bag at the exact right time and then swung his arms over the taller man who picked him up and practically twirled him about. He laughed brightly, not letting go even when he was set back down onto the ground.

“P’Tum… I missed you so much!” he exclaimed, burying his face into the other’s shoulder, feeling like the teenager he had been when he’d left to France. 

Fingers dived into his hair, stroking and he could feel P’Tum’s lips press to the top of his head. 

“Tar… welcome home.”


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tar POV chapter! Don't worry we'll get back to our regularly schedules POV's next time!

“P’Tum, I can carry one of the bags in at least, it’s not that big of a deal.” Tar told his older brother, but he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice as Tum waved the statement off, trying to lug in two large suitcases and Tar’s carry-on into the house. This was just like his brother, who had always done more for him than was necessary, had always cared for him more than was necessary. But that was one of the reasons that Tar loved him so much.

“Nope--no, you just got off of a twelve hour flight and you need rest, you’re probably exhausted. I got this, Tar.” Tum assured and Tar shook his head in bemusement before going to collapse onto the couch, placing his hands on his knees as he watched the other tug the suitcase just inside of the entryway. 

Tar’s eyes trailed over to the staircase and then back towards his brother who was leaning on one of the suitcases, breathing heavily. “We can bring them upstairs later. It’s not important right now, P’Tum. Thank you.”

The elder let out a breath and then smiled widely. He closed the door and slipped off his shoes and then went to join Tar on the couch, sitting close enough that their knees touched. Tar continued to smile. 

“I’ve missed you.” Tum said for at least the fifth time since Tar had gotten off of the plane. Tar let out a little breathy laugh and then Tum leaned in, wrapping his arm around Tar and pulled him to his chest.

Tar felt somewhat like a kid all curled up against his brother like this, it was actually a little awkward, but he decided to just go with it. It had been a long time since he and P’Tum had seen each other, but Tar would have to remind him that he was a grown man at twenty-two years old now. No longer was he the young teenager unsure of the world that Tum had seen him as. 

“I missed you too, P’Tum.” Tar said lightly, turning his head upwards to look at him. Tum was staring at him in such a way that it made Tar squirm a little under his gaze. Tum’s hand fell from his shoulder to his elbow and Tar let out a breathy laugh, trying to hide his awkwardness. 

He then jumped up, pointing a finger and looking excited. “Wait here, I have something for you.” Tum blinked at him and Tar rushed off to one of his suitcases, lowering it onto the floor and unzipping it. He then pulled out a portfolio, something he hadn’t felt comfortable shipping in case it got lost in the mail, and rifled through it before he tugged out a beautifully painted portrait. 

“I painted this for you a few months ago. I thought about mailing it, but I thought I’d better just wait and give it to you in person.” Tar held it out, that same bright smile on his face and Tum took it, turning it around to see a portrait as real as a photograph of him on stage, playing the guitar.

Tar watched his face carefully, feeling relieved when Tum automatically beamed, his eyes lighting up like stars as he looked between the portrait and Tar. Tum then set it aside and stood, pulling Tar into another hug. Tar wrapped his arms around his brother, gently patting his back. “So you like it?”

“Like it?” Tum questioned incredulously, hugging Tar even more tightly. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen--I love it, Tar.” Tum’s hand rested on the back of his head, lightly petting his hair. “Almost as much as I love having you back.”

Tar could feel the murmur of this against his skin and gave another laugh, trying to make light of the situation even though he knew, but he didn’t say anything.

He pulled back, eyes bright like starlight themselves. “Let me make you something to eat. I’m sure I can put together something.”

“But you just got back. We can order something--”

“P’Tum,” Tar gave a small pout as he stepped away, narrowing his eyes playfully. “I just graduated from culinary school, remember? Trust me, after eating that plane food and fast food for the last day, I really need to cook something.” 

“Well… I guess I can’t argue with that.” Tum said slowly, still seeming hesitant to letting Tar work.

“No, you can’t.” Tar told him firmly and then turned and walked off into the kitchen, his head held high. 

It was a little bit of a challenge trying to put something together out of what Tum had in the fridge. Their parents were gone once again and Tum had never seen it necessary to move out of the family home since he practically lived in it by himself, so it seemed Tum didn’t make it a habit of eating at home anymore without Tar’s cooking. Tar shot him a look over the door of the fridge, watching as Tum just smiled stupidly at the portrait Tar had painted him.

Tar couldn’t help but shake his head, but even still, there was a fondness to it and he began cooking.

Tar remembered the first time he had met Tum. He’d been so nervous about having a new, let alone older, step-brother that he’d been incredibly quiet and shy. What if this kid hated him and picked on him and turned their parents against him? Tar wouldn’t know what to do. 

But Tum had squashed those expectations upon first meeting. He’d instead smiled so widely and brightly at him that Tar had for sure thought he was faking. He’d introduced himself as P’Tum and said he was Tar’s new brother and he would take care of him forever. And that was exactly what Tum had done. 

Tar had felt like the most protected child in the world. He had enjoyed being spoiled and pampered by a new doting older brother. They’d been so young that Tar could scarcely remember all of the details, but he remembered enough, and it wasn’t as if much had changed through the years.

But now Tar was twenty-two and an adult and things were different. He somewhat wondered what P’Tum would say if he knew all of the things that Tar had experienced over the six years in France. He had visited a few times, but always kept his tales rather vague, concentrated on school and then culinary school and P’Tum never asked about if he dated anyone. Or if he did, it was in a joking manner and Tar tried to steer clear, laughing it off and turning it around, asking P’Tum if he was dating anyone.

“I go out with a girl once in awhile, but no one serious.” He’d always answer and Tar wondered if that was the truth.

Tar had dated a few people in France. One of them had even lasted a couple of years, but there had always been something missing. He’d been happy and they had fun, but they felt more like good friends than actual lovers and as Tar set down the plates of food and smiled at Tum before seating himself, he knew exactly what was missing from those people.

None of them were P’Tharn. 

It had become very evident over his time in France that he would never be able to find anyone that measured up to P’Tharn. Tharn had been his first and only love and at nights when Tar dreamed, he could remember the touch of him, the taste of him, the smell--as if the memories were imprinted on his mind and refusing to leave. 

It made things difficult because his heart ached when he thought about how he had let Tharn go. But he had done that for Tharn’s own sake. Tar truly loved the older boy (man, now, he supposed--like him) and he hadn’t wanted to make Tharn wait for him, not when he didn’t know what sorts of experiences he himself would have in France, and not when he knew that Tharn’s life as a soon-to-be (back then) rockstar would be full of interesting people and interesting things and the thought of Tharn ever even be tempted to cheat on him…

Well, it hurt. And sure, Tharn wasn’t that sort of person, but how long could you wait for someone halfway across the world without needing to meet some needs, right?

So he had let him go and at the time it had hurt immensely. Tharn had been hurt immensely, but he understood and they parted on good terms with promises to keep in touch. They didn’t keep in touch however, both of them realizing that hurt even more and it was on rare occasions that he now heard from Tharn. Birthdays and holidays and the like were about the only occasions his phone would buzz with a quick message and a smiley face.

But those were enough to send Tar’s heart pounding, to send him scrolling through his phone to pictures of him and Tharn. There was a picture of him sitting on Tharn’s lap, learning to play the drums. There was a picture of Tar teaching Tharn how to paint. Then there was a picture that was so blurry, it almost wasn’t worth being a picture at all, but they had been at a fair and Tharn was shoving cotton candy in his mouth and it had been the happiest day of his life.

It’d been the first time they had told each other they loved one another. 

“Is it good?” Tar asked, leaning forward in his seat as Tum tried the soup that he had prepared. 

Tum smiled at him and then sipped, blinking and then taking another bite before sitting back in what looked like shock. “That’s actually… that’s amazing. Your cooking has gotten so good, Tar!” 

Tar beamed and Tum reached over, ruffling his hair. He gave a small whine and tried to fix it. “P’Tum... just eat your soup.” He nodded towards the bowl and then picked up his own spoon to begin eating as well. 

“How can I eat my soup when I have you in front of me and all I want to do is talk to you?” Tum asked, but even as he did, he took another spoonful. 

He didn’t comment on that and also continued eating. Tum asked him questions about his flight, if it went well, if he was happy to be back in Thailand. His flight was bumpy, but okay, and he was very happy to be back in Thailand to see P’Tum again.

His brother practically burst, he smiled so widely at that. It did make Tar happy to see his brother happy at least. 

“What are your plans tomorrow, P’Tum?” He asked after he had mostly finished his bowl, very much eager for the answer.

“Well,” Tum set his spoon in the bowl and looked at him. “We’re supposed to have another rehearsal. We have a performance coming up at a talk show, but I can just say I can’t make it and we can hang out instead. How does that sound?” He offered, lips tilting upwards as he leaned in towards Tar. 

Tar leaned back into his seat, putting a little bit more distance between the two of them. P’Tum didn’t seem to notice. “Maybe…” he began slowly, as if thinking it over even though this had been exactly what Tar hoped Tum would answer to him. “Maybe I can come with you?” Tum tilted his head, staring at him. “I haven’t gotten to see you play in so long, P’Tum.”

“I can play for you now, if you want. I have my guitar in my room, I can go get it--” He began to get up before Tar could even reply.

“No!” Tar called out before thinking and then lowered his voice and reached forward, grasping Tum’s left hand with both of his, thumb lightly caressing the back as he peered up at the other. “No… I was really hoping to see your band practice. You know how cool I used to think you guys all were back when we were kids. I want to make sure you’re still just as cool.”

Tum seemed hesitant, but he couldn’t stop staring at their hands locked. Tar tightened his grip, giving a small flutter of his lashes and then Tum weakened, nodding just a little. “I--I guess. Yeah, you can come with me and sit in. I’m sure the guys won’t mind. They’ll be… happy to see you. Especially…” Tum didn’t say the name, but the sudden stiffness was all Tar needed to know who he meant.

“Are you still fighting with P’Tharn?” He asked, his voice soft, pulling Tum back down into his chair. 

“I don’t know that we’re really fighting right now.” Tum murmured, covering Tar’s hands with his free one. “But… he is seeing someone.”

Tar blinked. “I thought that was just a fanservice thing?” He’d seen Tharn with that soccer player online, but none of it had seemed real. Having dated Tharn in the past, he knew what it was like, and this was all showbiz--he could see it. They couldn’t actually be dating, could they?

Tum gave a small shrug. “It seems pretty real to me. They spend practically every day with each other.”

He bit on his lip a little and then shrugged before smiling widely. “It’s fine. I’m not going there to see P’Tharn. I’m going there to see P’Tum.” He lied smoothly. 

Tum smiled at that, looking like a giddy child. “Okay… well, let me clean these up and you go upstairs and get some sleep, you look exhausted.” In truth, Tar did feel very exhausted and if he were to get up early to go with Tum to his rehearsal, he would need plenty of sleep.

So he hummed and nodded, letting go of his brother’s hands before standing. “I’m going to shower first and then I’ll head off to sleep. Good night, P’Tum.” He said, but before he could leave, he felt arms wrap around him again and a kiss was pressed to his head. 

The smile on his face wavered but he managed to keep it as he looked up at his older brother. 

“Good night, Tar.” Tum murmured, giving a last stroke to his hair before he picked up the dishes and brought them over to the sink. Tar let out a breath and shook his head before heading upstairs to get some rest and prepare himself to seeing Tharn tomorrow for the first time in years.


	30. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD DAY MEWGULF SWEETHEARTS! How do you feel to finally have an official fandom name? The power of the Sweetheart nation trending it worldwide at #1!! And not only that but the boys were flirting it up a storm on twitter too. Gosh every day, we are fed, great isn't it?
> 
> Anyway, if you guys read RPF, I wrote a MewGulf fic, go check it out ;) I also wrote a JoongNine fic if they're your speed too! (and really if they aren't they SHOULD be)

Tharn had stopped dead in his tracks in the entrance to the rehearsal studio. He’d ended up running a little behind because his tire had a flat and he’d come running into the room, sending off his apologies to the other members, only to halt the moment he stepped inside. 

He felt like he had been doused in cold water, the shock was immense. The last thing he had expected today was to see Tar standing there, smiling as he chatted away with the other members of LBC, catching up. At first, Tharn thought maybe he was seeing things but he blinked and rubbed his eyes and Tar standing there looking better than ever in a dark pair of jeans with a long sleeved black shirt that fell off both his shoulders only to expose a white collared shirt beneath and a dark blue beret sat on his head. There was a smile on his face and he was laughing at something someone said and Tharn felt seventeen again all of a sudden.

And then Tar seemed to notice him and turned his head. The bright smile on his face softened into something gentler. “P’Tharn,” came the familiar sweet voice in greeting, not loud at all but still somehow breaking through all of the other sounds that were whirling around.

That’s when Tharn realized that this wasn’t some sort of dream or ghost, Tar was actually here. In front of him. For the first time in six years. And he was grown up and matured and looked happy--everything that Tharn had wanted for him. 

“Tar…” he finally brought himself to say, shaking his head to get his brain working again. “You’re back?” He could sense Tum staring at him from over Tar’s shoulder, as if warning him to not make a move towards his brother. Tharn decided to heed the silent warning and stayed where he stood.

The younger man smiled however and pushed his hands against his knees before standing. “I got all my credits so instead of sticking around, I decided to come home. But… it’s too much to talk about right now and I feel bad if I were to hold up your rehearsal, P’Tharn.” 

“Right.” Tharn blinked, letting out a breath as he tried to control the sudden quickness of his heart. “Right. Rehearsal. Right--sorry, I had a flat tire.” Tharn looked away from Tar and rushed passed, having to brush in between Tum and Lhong in order to get to his drum set. He avoided Tum’s eye contact and pulled out his sticks, shooting Tar a quick glance who was moving over into a corner and sitting in a chair. 

“I hope it’s okay if I stick around.” Tar said, getting comfortable and looking all around, making sure that no one disagreed with his being there. They all shrugged, none of them having a problem with Tar. He’d always been well liked by all of them--and especially by Tharn, of course. 

Tharn didn’t reject the idea, but he also couldn’t say that he was too excited about it either. He had a feeling that it might be difficult to concentrate with Tar sitting directly in his line of view with that cute smile and cute way of sliding his hands in between his knees and he looked so grown up and--Tharn shook his head and signaled to Lhong that he too was ready to begin.

He couldn’t believe how the day had gone and it wasn’t even noon. Tharn had woken up with Type cooking breakfast for him, almost as if he were some sort of house husband, and it had literally been the cutest thing. Tharn had wondered if he’d ever be able to control his feelings for him like he knew he needed to and now Tar, his first love, and someone he knew deep down he wasn’t yet completely over was back right before him watching him play?

And smiling at him and it filled Tharn with this sort of clammy nervousness and he almost missed a beat but quickly caught it. Tum caught the mistake however and shot him a look, as if he knew exactly what was going through Tharn’s mind.

Maybe he did. Maybe Tum knew exactly what was going through his mind. After all, Tum was Tar’s brother, they had just talked all about this a few weeks ago. 

Tharn shook his head, freeing himself from the distracting thoughts and buckled down. He needed to concentrate. He didn’t have time to think about Tar right now. But later… 

Somehow Tar had actually managed to sit in the corner for the entire time (other than a quick bathroom break and to get a drink). By the time they were breaking for a quick lunch, he could tell that Tar was a little restless, but seemed otherwise fine. He wanted to go talk to him, but the looks Tum kept shooting him told him not to even think about it. 

When they weren’t practicing, Tum would talk to Type, letting pretty much no one else approach the boy, a protective aura resonating off of him that Tharn was all too familiar with. So he just watched and once in awhile he could see Tar glancing at him. 

“You okay?” He glanced up as he was still seated to see Lhong standing in front of him, looking a little troubled. Lhong then gestured over to Tar. “It’s been awhile.”

Tharn let out a small sigh, giving his friend a tiny smile to reassure him. “I’m okay. Just a little surprised. Not every day your ex shows up from France after six years and comes to your band rehearsal, you know?” He attempted to joke, but it was much too serious for either him or Lhong to find funny.

“I didn’t realize he was coming back. Did he tell you?” There was a sort of worry in Lhong’s voice and Tharn could only assume that it was worry for him.

“No. Tum didn’t tell me either, but I guess that’s expected.” He let out a sharp laugh and Lhong gave a weak chuckle in reply. “You want to go get something to eat? I could use some air.”

Lhong smiled and nodded eagerly, but as the two of them walked out, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder at Tar, only for his heart to leap when he saw Tar looking at him back.

-

**Tar**   
_P’Tharn, can we go out for coffee and lunch tomorrow?_

Tharn had been staring at the text for an hour without replying, unsure of what the correct response to this situation would be. He hadn’t seen Tar in so long and suddenly they had one quick interaction and now Tar was asking him out--no, not out, just on a simple lunch get-together, something between old friends. And ex-lovers. No big deal.

His eyes slid over to Type who was lying on his stomach on Tharn’s living room floor, papers scattered around him. There were little diagrams that Tharn could only assume were plays for his soccer team that he looked to be trying to memorize and study. Tharn hadn’t realized until he’d gotten closer to Type over the last few weeks just how much actually went into playing sports. It wasn’t all kicking the ball and a lot of it was very much based on strategy.

Type was incredibly smart. Something told Tharn that he didn’t get enough credit for this however. 

It was strange how comfortable it was seeing Type spread out across his floor making a bit of a mess. Normally, Tharn didn’t really enjoy having company over, preferring to go out instead and keep his home clean and quiet. Type was the exact opposite. He was a bit of a mess and loud and stubborn and everything that Tharn wasn’t, but it felt comfortable to have it all lying on his living room floor. 

Things had been like this for the last few weeks, each of them taking turns staying at the other’s apartment, but most of the time they stayed at Tharn’s. It was bigger, nicer, had actual food in it, and was the perfect setting for taking pictures or doing impromptu live streams with conveniently placed Consort perfume boxes around. 

He sort of wondered how Type was feeling about all of this. Was he comfortable putting this much of their ‘relationship’ out to air? Playing it all up? They had never actually said they were a couple to anyone, but they acted like one so perfectly that Tharn himself figured he could even trick himself into believing it if he really wanted to. 

His eyes trailed over Type as he stretched out his legs behind him. He enjoyed the way the sweats moved against the back of his thighs and the way his white shirt rode upwards just a little to expose a smooth patch of soft skin. Tharn knew it was soft because he’d gotten to touch it before and he could feel his hand tingling now, craving to touch it again. He gave a small sigh and then smiled, crawling over to him.

Tharn lay on his stomach next to him, but almost on top of him and tossed an arm around the other’s shoulders. “For the camera.” He told him with a smile when Type looked at him with a raised brow in that familiar way. Type rolled his eyes, but it looked more light-hearted than it used to and then Tharn tucked his head down onto Type’s shoulder, his breath blowing at the side of Type’s neck as he held up his camera in front of them and snapped a few pictures. 

He couldn’t help but linger a moment, taking in the scent of Type’s hair before he pulled away, automatically missing the warmth, and rolled over onto his back to admire the picture before posting it. 

_‘night of studying. slumber party?’_

After posting it, Tharn dropped his phone onto his stomach and turned his head to look at Type who was looking back down at his papers. “What’s all that mean?” He asked, his eyes flickering across Type’s face as the man tapped a pen against his lips. 

Type glanced at him and then showed him one of the pages. “They’re movements based on what could happen in a match, whether things go right or things go wrong. So simply, if this guy blocks this guy we’d try to get the ball over in this area because we’re luring the other members of the opposing team into blocking all these guys off instead of the person over here so that we can get the ball to the goal.”

Tharn didn’t get it and it apparently showed on his face because Type laughed at him. “You’re such a music nerd. It’s not that hard.”

“You’re such a jock.” Tharn said in reply and Type shrugged with a small grin, not denying it. “Are you staying the night again?” He asked, holding his breath as he waited for the answer. 

It took a moment before Type said anything and when he did, his voice was a little quiet and he was staring at his paper. “Do you want me to?” 

Tharn didn’t know how to answer that question without revealing things he couldn’t reveal. “If you want to.” He settled on instead, deciding that he’d leave the choice up to Type. It was the safe choice, the safe response and he gave himself a mental pat on the back for it. 

Type looked over at him, seeming to size him up for a moment. “I guess. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

“Oh, so that’s why you sleep over here so much?” Tharn teased, unable to help himself to poke Type in the side and the man squirmed, rolling away with a wide-eyed look of panic on his face. “Oh?” Tharn blinked and then smirked, inching a little closer. “Are you ticklish?”

“No!” Type said quickly and before Tharn knew it there was a pillow tossed at his head and he groaned before pulling it away from him only to see Type jumping to his feet. “Bathroom.” And then he ran off before Tharn could say anything else. 

Tharn just smiled and watched him, feeling comfortable with how things had gotten between him and Type. The feelings were still there, but they didn’t overpower all of his actions towards him anymore and Tharn felt confident. Confident that he could do it--he could get over Type.

He picked up his phone and messaged Tar back.

**Tharn**   
_sure. our old place?_

-

Their ‘old place’ was a little cafe close to Tar’s house. They had frequented it back during their high school days, often stopping in for an after school snack before heading to Tar’s where the band would meet up. A lot of the time they ended up messing around in the backyard and Tharn had fond memories of both he and Tum ganging up on Tar to grab him and shoot water from the hose up his shirt. But that was back before he and Tar had told him they were dating and before his and Tum’s relationship turned sour. 

He hadn’t been inside the cafe in years, and as he did, the smell of cinnamon and coffee wafting up his nostrils, he felt at peace, at home, like he had suddenly found something that had been missing. Something that had been missing he hadn’t even known about. 

Tar was already there, in their old spot by a back window in a corner and Tharn just stood there for a moment, memories flashing through his mind. He could remember that this had been where Tar had first asked him out. He’d been nervous, but his voice un-shaking as he admitted his feelings and Tharn couldn’t help but admire and respect someone so brave. 

He said yes and then lay his hand atop Tar’s and soon he fell head over heels and in way too deep and he could honestly say that yes; he really had loved Tar. 

And looking at him now, sitting there with the sun burning brightly from behind him, Tharn’s heart pounding rapidly in his chest, he could confidently say that yes. He still really loved Tar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but Tharn, listen... there are MULTIPLE ways to love someone. Are you sure what you're feeling is correct? Think carefully now. Hmm...


	31. Chapter 30

There was a silence that Tharn would describe as both awkward and comfortable between him and Tar. Awkward because neither of them really knew what to say and comfortable because of the vast and intimate history between the two of them. Tharn sipped at his coffee, letting his eyes wander and taking in the much more confident version of a boy that he used to know.

He remembered the Tar of six years ago, a shy but bright boy who practically begged to be loved and cared for. Tharn has found himself doing just that, each minute he spent around him bringing the two closer. He and Tum had often teamed up to mess with him and tease him and it had made Tharn’s days full and vibrant to spend with so many people he cared about.

But his feelings grew and at the time he had panicked, unsure of how Tar would react to having a male P’ have a crush on him. And then there was the matter of Tum who had become one of Tharn’s closest friends and confidants and how would he take one of his best friends crushing on his little brother? So Tharn had kept it to himself, had been determined to let it stay that way, and was content to just be happy with being Tar’s friend.

And then Tar had confessed his feelings and asked him out in this very spot and to say that Tharn had been taken completely by surprise would be an understatement. It took courage for someone to do that—Tharn hadn’t even fully come out as gay, but there Tar was, grasping his hands and looking at him so desperately to return his feelings that Tharn’s resolve to remain only friends with the boy shattered completely and he agreed to go on a date with him. 

And the rest was history. But here they were some six years later, seated in that exact same spot Tar had asked him out in and both of their lives were so completely different that Tharn didn’t know where to begin. Still, there was a familiar warmth to being around Tar that Tharn had missed and had never felt around anyone else—not even Type, who was less like a warm ray of sunlight and more like a hurricane. It was calm when caught in the eye, but get even just the edge and it was a mess waiting to happen.

A part of him felt guilty for the comparison. He enjoyed being around Type, a lot—and that was actually one of his issues. He enjoyed being around Type too much and it was common to lose control with him in a way that he’d never experienced with Tar. There would be days when Tharn would have to hold himself back from pushing Type against a wall and shoving his tongue down his throat to silence the bratty words that spilled from his mouth. It was frustrating and difficult and he had never once had that issue with the easy, relaxed reality of being with Tar.

“You look good.” Tar broke the silence with a small smile, his almost dainty hands wrapped around his mug so that Tharn could just barely see the cheesy saying ‘coffee before sleep’ that sprawled along the front. “You still look like you.”

“I’m glad that’s a good thing.” Tharn commented with a small laugh. “You look good too. Grown up… I hope that’s not weird to say.”

Tar shook his head reassuringly. “I was a teenager the last time you saw me; I’m twenty-two now. I’m a lot more grown up and with a lot more experiences. We both are.” He notes and Tharn nodded his agreement. “With me finishing my education in France and then culinary school—and you with LBC. I always knew the band was destined for big things and I’m proud to hold the title of being your very first fan.”

Tharn suddenly grinned as he remembered something. “You got us all T-shirt’s made for our very first gig. I remember yours saying something about being our first fan.” 

“I still have that shirt!” Tar told him excitedly, his eyes sparkling as if they held the stars. “I don’t wear it so that it doesn’t get ruined, but I still have it.” 

“You’re a dedicated fan.” Tharn teased, picking up his mug to drink from.

“I’m more than just a fan.” Tar said lightly, almost as if he were embarrassed to be saying it, but there was no sign of actual embarrassment in his voice.

“Yes, you are.” Tharn replied, his voice also soft and then they were both quiet again, but the awkwardness was gone and he could tell that Tar too was thinking about certain things that were difficult to say aloud. 

He lightly messed with a sugar packet on the table, spinning it around until either of them felt ready to speak again. Tar was ready first.

“So is it true you’re dating someone?” He glanced up and looked over at Tar. There was no hint of emotion on his face, but Tharn could sense the curiosity in his voice and see the hopefulness in his eyes. 

Tharn didn’t have to ask to know what he was hopeful for.

Still, he hesitated. People were supposed to believe it. He and Type, to the outside world, though they never admitted forthright to anything, were dating. They were supposed to hint and tease without ever saying one way or another. Only the cologne company, their managers, Lhong, and he supposed Techno knew the truth of his and Type’s relationship. It was one of friends and coworkers and sure, maybe Tharn felt the fluttering and beginnings of romance, but Tharn considered himself a hopeless romantic. This was nothing new and at least he knew it couldn’t go anywhere. 

At least he knew that he and Type, based on Type’s own words and fears, weren’t meant to be. Tharn just had to be willing to accept that. And he could and he would accept it.

And maybe this was his sign. Tar was right in front of him and he felt the love he’d always felt for him just as strong as ever. The sign was bright and brilliant and hanging directly over Tar’s head. Type was red. Tar was green. 

“Actually,” he shifted in his seat and pushed his mug away from himself so that he could fold his arms over the table. “Promise not to tell anyone?” 

Tar gave a slow nod and smile. “I promise.”

He took in a breath and looked at him for a moment. Why did he suddenly feel so nervous about telling the truth? “It’s just a sponsorship. Type and I just have to make it look like we’re dating to sell product. We’re friends who were strangers who got drunk and had a moment that got revealed to the public, but that’s it.” A sick feeling of guilt welled up inside of him, like he was lying, but he quashed it down. There was no reason to feel guilty as he wasn’t lying. 

“So you’re single?” Tar reconfirmed, his voice gentle and careful but his eyes exposing just how eager he was for the answer which he so obviously longed for.

Tharn smiled. “I’m single.” 

And then Tar smiled back. “So am I.”

-

“What do you think?” The question broke through and managed to knock Tharn back into the present. He and Type were in a meeting with their managers and the creator of an indie clothing brand of someone with way too much money. They wanted the two of them to sign a sponsorship deal and since it wasn’t perfume, it wouldn’t get in the way of their current deal. 

They wanted Tharn and Type to promote it in the same way however—as a couple. 

Tharn couldn’t help but be a little hesitant over the idea. The cologne one had been Tharn’s way of spending more time with Type, trying to get to know him. It has been in hopes that he could get Type to like him, and while they were friends and Tharn hoped to remain that way, it obviously hadn’t worked and all he got was a confused twenty-four year old putting up the friend wall. Another sponsorship like this meant he’d have to be acting like this with Type even longer, and he wasn’t sure that his heart could handle it.

And then there was Tar. Tar whom he’d been talking a lot to the last few days since he had gotten back. Tar whom still somehow made him giddy to see him. There were no harsh feelings for the breakup, just eagerness to see what was next. 

And if he were doing even more fake dating of Type… how would that look while he’s maybe rekindling the flame of an old love? Would that be fair? To either of them? And then there were his feelings to Type which he knew, just by looking over at Type, that they still existed. He could feel the stirring in his chest, the telling skip of a beat, but it wasn’t as strong anymore because each time he looked at Type, he tried to remind himself that they would only ever be just friends. 

It was kind of helping to quell those feelings of romance inside of him, actually.

“Do you want to?” Tharn asked instead, deciding to leave it up to Type. Type would probably turn it down anyway. He doubted that the other wanted to continue acting like a couple with him any longer than was necessary.

“I think it sounds okay.” Type said to Tharn’s utter surprise and Tharn fell silent as he took that in. He had expected Type to say no, had almost counted on it, but here Type was saying yes and if Tharn said no now… well it’d raise questions from Type. But maybe that was okay, maybe Tharn should just try being honest and tell him that there was someone he was interested in. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“I guess we’re doing it.” Tharn said instead, inwardly smacking himself because hadn’t he just been saying that he wasn’t going to do this and he was just going to be honest with Type about why? But the thought of not getting to see Type in this way anymore actually hurt. He was getting used to being friends, but what if not working together meant not being friends either?

It was a possibility. Type wouldn’t have any reason to come around him. They could both go their separate ways and move on with their lives and pretend that they never even knew each other if they both really wanted to after this. People would eventually go back to shipping him with Lhong and Type would get to focus on his soccer and that would be that. Tharn would also be able to move on completely. That would be that. It really wasn’t such a bad idea.

But he’d already said yes and Type was already signing the contract they had both looked over and Tharn, before he even realized it, was picking up his pen and signing his name and Type was giving him that smile that caused his heart to squeeze in his chest. He’d been seeing that smile a lot more over the last couple of weeks and Tharn wondered what he had done to deserve to get to see it.

“Want to celebrate?” Type asked, looking purely at him before apparently remembering that they had their managers with them and then he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Champ and P’San can come too. We can go to dinner.” 

“You know me, I’m always ready to eat.” Champ said from beside him and Tharn didn’t have the heart to turn it down and P’San was already thanking them for the offer and saying they’d love to join so yeah--Tharn supposed that this is what they were going to do now. 

So that was how they had found themselves in a hotpot restaurant with Type sitting right next to Tharn. Tharn was very aware of Type whenever the other would lean over to reach something and he’d come in incredibly close contact with Tharn. He smelled nice, or maybe it was just the food--except it wasn’t the food. Tharn could tell the difference between the food and Type, amazing as it was. 

Tharn was quiet through much of the night and he could tell that Type noticed. P’San also noticed, the two of them taking turns shooting him looks, but neither really making an effort to get him to talk. Type would nudge him every once in awhile and then huff when he didn’t say much of anything in reply to his jokes, but Tharn just couldn’t bring himself to do it, too caught up in his thoughts. 

“Hey, Type,” Type’s manager, Champ, said from across the table as he prodded his chopsticks into his bowl. “Have you heard from Techno?”

Type looked as if he was thinking back, chewing slowly on the food in his mouth. “Not in the last couple of days. But he’s been pretty quiet lately. Stressed about…” Type trailed off and then shrugged. If Champ knew what he was talking about, he didn’t clarify.

“I was just wondering.” Tharn could hear worry in his voice and it actually got him curious, but it wasn’t his business so he didn’t press, although he was tempted to ask Type when they were alone. 

“Well, if you want to go check on him after this, you can. Tharn can take me home.” Tharn turned and looked over at Type who wasn’t even looking at him but instead just taking another bite to eat.

P’San from across gave a small cough and Tharn looked at him to see his friend shooting him a look, silently telling him to say no. But Tharn instead smiled over at Champ and nodded. “I can take Type home. I don’t mind.”

“We can plan for this sponsorship.” Type said and Tharn inwardly wondered if agreeing to take Type home was a good idea after all.


	32. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some special guests this chapter ;) 
> 
> also i'm so sorry, i promise we'll get through this hill soon afhdhf

Tharn put his car into park as he pulled up to Type’s apartment complex. The drive back had been silent, neither really speaking, but Type couldn’t stop looking over at him. He wanted to speak, to say something and break the silence, but what? Tharn had been off all night, hadn’t teased or joked or really even spoke. Type knew it was stupid to worry. It wasn’t like Tharn was obligated to talk to him or anything, but Type couldn’t help but feel a bit confused, and maybe the tiniest bit hurt. 

He felt ignored and Type hated feeling ignored. So this was why he had offered up Tharn to take him home and normally it didn’t feel like such a burden on the other. Normally Tharn was jumping at the opportunity, but his yes had sounded less like a yes and more of a ‘yeah I guess I can do it’ sort of thing and there was a difference. 

Was he somehow making things strange between them? He supposed, when he thought about it, they were acting a little bit closer than how friends should act but Tharn hadn’t seemed to mind. He hadn’t said anything and if Tharn minded, then wouldn’t he have said something about it? Put an end to it? But he seemed perfectly content to wake up with his arm wrapped around Type. It just felt right. 

They were just two friends, sharing a bed together, and that was okay.

Who was Type kidding? They were way more than friends at this point, they just hadn’t put a title to it. Or kissed. Or done anything else that was even at all similar to how couples who were actually dating acted. They did everything but the physical stuff. 

Maybe he should just confess and see if the physical stuff started happening because Type kind of wanted to see what that was like. He’d only gotten to have sex with Tharn once and he remembered enjoying it. He also remembered being fairly buzzed during it and wanted to be sober the next time around.

But that idea was scary and Type didn’t think he could handle that. Yet. Soon. He was working on it. He just needed to get over this last hurdle and be able to tell Tharn that he wanted to give it a try, give them a try and then hopefully Tharn would say yes and Type would live happily ever after being proud of himself for actually taking that step.

Until then, however, he at least wanted to keep their friendship going strong, and there was obviously something wrong with Tharn. Type wondered to himself if something going wrong in all of his close friendships was just how it was meant to be. Kom still hadn’t talked to him, Techno was MIA the last few days, and now here was Tharn, practically ignoring him and looking so torn about something that even Type had noticed. 

Type wasn’t so good at fixing these issues though.

“Do you want to come up?” He asked, unable to keep the small bit of hope out of his voice. Tharn glanced out of the window for a moment before he shook his head and Type could feel his heart fall into his stomach. 

“I--I have some work to do. Back home.” Tharn told him, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he looked over in Type’s general direction but not directly at him.

“Tharn… did I do something I’m not aware of?” he asked, narrowing his brows a little bit as he tried to think back over everything he had said today. It wouldn’t be a surprise to him if he had somehow insulted Tharn without realizing it. He kind of did that often to pretty much everyone he had ever met, but he really couldn’t think of what he could’ve possibly said to get Tharn this upset.

“What?” Now there was surprise in Tharn’s voice as he actually looked at him. “No. No, you didn’t upset me. I really just do have things that I have to work on and if I go upstairs, those are definitely not getting done.” He clarified and Type felt a sense of relief.

Yet, at the same time, he was still suspicious. There was more to this than Tharn was telling him. Type wasn’t an idiot; he could spot a lie if he really wanted to and there was something Tharn was lying to him about. But did that matter? It wasn’t as if they really were dating, no matter how much Type kind of felt like a betrayed lover at the moment. He wasn’t one, Tharn wasn’t his lover. So there was no betrayal possible between the two of them. Not really.

So he gave a slow nod as he repeated this to himself and pulled the seatbelt (which he had long since gotten the trick to actually unbuckling it down) from its lock. He took his time, hoping that Tharn would change his mind, but he didn’t and once he was out of the car, he realized that Tharn really didn’t want to come up. So he said bye, his voice unable to hide a bit of the disappointment that he felt and walked over to the entrance to the building. 

And then Tharn drove away and Type stood there, watching and frowning and wondered if he really had missed his chance. He and Tharn really were just always going to be friends from now on, weren’t they?

-

The locker slammed shut and from the peripheral of his eye, he could see Techno give a small flinch, but he ignored it and huffed and sat on the bench behind him to pull on his cleats. Type was in a mood. Type was in a very bad mood. 

He’d texted Tharn before leaving asking if they were still going out to dinner and Tharn had said that ‘something had come up’. 

Something had come up. Something had come up? What the fuck had come up that Tharn would actually cancel on him? He hadn’t done that before. Type hadn’t ever thought that Tharn would actually cancel--on him. He was always so eager. Tharn used to be the one suggesting things to do or places to eat and now he was actually cancelling? 

Type was pissed. And he was pissed because he was trying to ignore the sharp, stabbing pains that were being shoved into his heart instead. Maybe he really had done something to offend Tharn? Did Tharn not even like him as a friend any more? But he couldn’t figure out what… 

“Is P’Type okay?” Type glanced over quickly before bending over to look at his shoes, deciding to just ignore the kid on their team who was looking at him in concern, talking to Techno next to him. He thought his name was Ae or something. 

Techno gave a nervous laugh and laid his hand on Ae’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. He’s just PMSing.” 

Type turned and swung his fist right into Techno’s arm with a glare and Techno laughed again, but this time it was full of pain as he clutched at his arm, rubbing it desperately as if that would help soothe the hurt. “I’m not sorry for that.” Type told him dryly before standing from the bench. 

“Guess I deserved that one.” Techno said through clenched teeth and Ae walked away slowly, as if scared that he’d be next if he stayed near Type for too long. 

Type just rolled his eyes and headed out onto the field. 

The sun was blazing and hot on his skin. It felt kind of nice, as if it were zapping all of his insecurities away for the time being. It was too warm and he was too busy to think about Tharn. He began doing some stretches as everyone else shuffled out of the locker room to get started on their warm up, but before any of them could get very far into it, the coach came over followed by two men who didn’t look like they belonged on the field at all, dressed in much too nice of clothes.

The older one was smiling, but something about it struck Type as fake while the younger one who trailed behind, hands in his pockets, looked as if he thought he was too good to be here at all. The look made Type want to hit him just as he had hit Techno a few minutes before.

The coach told them all to gather round and everyone filed in front of him. He felt a gaze and turned his head to see Aksornpan staring at him. When Aksornpan noticed that Type had noticed, the guy smirked and turned his head to face the front.

Something about the smirk sent a chill down Type’s spine and he crossed his arms over his chest, shifting on his feet as he turned to look at the coach and the two men.

“Okay, team! As you all know, we have recently been transferred to new ownership. Today, I want you to meet the owner and his brother. This is Tul Medthanan and his younger brother Tin.”

Type had actually completely forgotten that they had been bought out, or maybe he had just never been paying attention, but he eyed the two brothers, wondering what they even knew about soccer. Probably nothing. He tried hard to keep the scowl from his face but his already sour mood was starting to worsen. 

“Hello, I’m Tul--and I want to tell everyone thank you for always doing an amazing job. You guys made the decision really easy and I’ll continue trusting the coach here to help this team grow. I’m looking forward to the future of this team.” The speech was small and boring and Type couldn’t help but wonder why they had decided to buy a soccer team of all things.

He supposed it was an easy way to make money and not have to lift a finger themselves. Their team was good and they were a lock to win the championship title this year. He supposed he couldn’t blame them.

The younger brother, Tin, didn’t say anything, just looked bored with the whole proceedings and Type could tell that he had been forced to come rather than actually wanting to be there. Type couldn’t really blame him for that and soon they were told to get back to training. Type at once did as told and started off on some laps around the field.

The two brothers hung around for awhile, watching them practice, almost as if they knew whether or not the team was working hard. The coach was going harder on them than normal and Type almost wanted to just call it a day and leave without another word, but he couldn’t do that so he fought through the urge to hit something again (although he did come close to smacking Techno again for some stupid comment or other that he couldn’t even remember what it was after). 

By the time he was done with practice, he had made up his mind on what he wanted to do about his Tharn situation. A part of him felt a little ill at the thought, but he had to go talk to Tharn. He had to confront him and ask what the hell was going on so he didn’t care if Tharn was busy. He didn’t believe it anyway. He was going to go to his apartment and find out whatever it was that Tharn was keeping from him.

He showered quickly, barely speaking a word to anyone and straight out ignoring Techno when he asked where he was going in such a rush (barely even thinking about how maybe he should take this time to find out what was going on with Techno--but, well, there was always next time for that). 

Type then jumped in his car and sped off, not wanting to waste another moment before speaking to Tharn.

-

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Tharn couldn’t help but to hold his breath after asking the question. He hadn’t even really meant to, although he had been thinking about it. They hadn’t even been on the topic. It was like the words had tumbled from his mouth due to a short-circuit in his brain. And then he felt nervous. What if he had read things wrong? What if this wasn’t what he had wanted at all?

There was silence on the other end of the line and Tharn was almost positive that was the case and felt embarrassed and disappointed and ready to go beat on some drums to take out his frustration for doing this to himself. He was going to say sorry and nevermind and hang up, but then there was a small sound, as if the other man were trying to speak.

“You--you really want that?” Tar asked, his voice a little quiet and muffled, as if he were speaking against a pillow and Tharn could imagine that perfectly in his mind.

He hesitated for a moment before figuring he might as well go through with it. There was no use taking it back now. He’d already asked and Tar had already heard the question. “Yeah…” he said softly, his arm swung over his eyes as he lay on his own bed. “Yeah--I want to take you out on a date, Tar.”

More silence in which Tharn could only hold his breath. 

“I--yeah! Yeah, of course I want to!” Came Tar’s excited voice, no longer muffled but almost restrained, as if he were trying to keep himself from jumping in joy and Tharn could feel his heart leap upwards into his throat at the response. “I’d love to go on a date with you P’Tharn. I’ve missed you…” 

“I’ve missed you too, Tar.” He smiled a little to himself. “I’ll call you about the details tomorrow? I have an early morning so I’m going to head to bed early, okay?”

“Okay, P’Tharn.” Came Tar’s voice, still sounding full of excitement. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night.” And then the two hung up and Tharn stared up at his ceiling, the smile slowly falling from his face.

He was happy to be going on a date with Tar, but why was he suddenly feeling so guilty?

There was a knock at his door and he blinked. He sat up, staring out of his bedroom door and into the hall, waiting until he heard another knock to make sure that he hadn’t imagined it before getting up and heading towards the entrance.

He glanced through the peephole and then froze for a moment before slowly pulling the door open. “Type, what are you doing here?”

Type stared at him, his face hard and determined. “Tharn. We need to talk.”


	33. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wanted to try something and see what you guys think, so you're getting a very early update today.
> 
> I've been thinking about it, I know some ppl are getting antsy to see them finally get together and I'm thinking of making my chapters longer (which is pretty much just combining my plans for chapters into one rather than separating them into shorter, multiple chapters). However, if I do this, you probably won't get DAILY updates (unless I can write a TON of chapters this weekend), but you WILL get longer chapters, and still multiple updates a week. So I'd LOVE to hear what you guys would prefer I do!

“Tharn. We need to talk.” Type said and then without waiting, he shoved himself passed the other, pausing only to slide off his shoes before he went and collapsed onto Tharn’s couch with pursed lips and a stiff face. He could feel Tharn staring at him, eyes wide, but he ignored it until Tharn slowly shut the door and followed him over to the couch. 

“Did something happen that made you angry?” Tharn asked slowly, lowering himself onto the couch a little bit further away from Type, almost as if he were afraid he’d be hit or something. Type rolled his eyes.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’ve been acting weird the last few days. Barely talking, stuck in your thoughts. You’re barely even going through with what we’re supposed to be doing, which is making people think we’re a couple.” Type pointed out and Tharn seemed to realize something as he leaned back into the couch with a sigh, just looking at him. “So do I get an explanation for how weird you’re being? Are you wanting to back out of the sponsorships? You could’ve said that before we just signed another contract. Like what the fuck, Tharn?”

“Ai’Type,” Tharn said imploringly, leaning a bit forward again as he reached over and pressed his hand against Type’s knee. Type tried to pretend that his heart hadn’t suddenly started racing, but he also didn’t move away from the touch either. “That’s not it. I swear it’s not it. And it’s not anything you’ve done either. I’ve just been… busy.”

“Busy?” Type repeated incredulously, raising his brows and pushing Tharn’s hand off of his knee as much as he didn’t want to. “Busy with what, exactly? Because you cancelled dinner plans on me and I come to see why and you’re actually here. You don’t seem busy to me at all.”

Tharn paused and stared at him, almost as if he were searching for something. Type just stared back harder in response and Tharn leaned away, pulling his hand fully into his lap. He seemed to be struggling to think of what to say and Type could feel the impatience grow inside of him. He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. He knew he was being a child. It wasn’t even a big deal--except it kind of felt like it was.

Type was hurt. Why was Tharn acting like this all of a sudden? The two of them had gotten so close and comfortable with each other and just as things were going well, just as Type was getting to know Tharn, the other was going to pull away? Just like that? It didn’t make sense.

It made Type want to scream and throw a fit because he felt like he’d come so far towards something, only to see it being snatched out of his grasp and it was an awful feeling. The last few months knowing Tharn had been hectic and not altogether fun, necessarily, but he could say, without a shred of doubt, that he wouldn’t go back on any of it.

He really liked Tharn.

It was a shock even to himself. 

“My ex is back.” Tharn said suddenly and Type for some reason all of a sudden felt a sickly nervousness for a reason that he couldn’t place. Maybe it was the way that Tharn’s eyes were looking at him, somewhat heavy and sad. He felt as if something were ending, but what could be ending when nothing had even begun at all?

“Your ex… the one who went to France?” Type questioned slowly, trying to think back all that Tharn had told him over the last few weeks.

“Yeah, him.” Tharn sighed and then shifted on the couch, leaning forward to press his arms into his knees, looking at Type with a soft gaze, one that was almost apologetic and Type wondered what he had to apologize for, but he felt that he knew. He could feel it nagging at the back of his mind, tickling at something, trying to get him to understand before Tharn could even say it, so that he could be prepared-- “I asked him on a date.”

It felt like a punch to the gut in a way that Type hadn’t actually expected it to. It knocked the words right from his ability to speak and he took in a sharp breath. 

This was the second time that Tharn had been snatched out of his grasp before he could even manage to grab hold of him. The first done by Tharn’s confession of guilt, this one because his ex was back. His ex whom he apparently still had feelings for and wanted to date. 

And here Type was thinking that there was a possibility that Tharn felt more for Type than just lust. Had he been wrong? Had lust really been all there was and now that there was someone who he had actual feelings for, who he’d had an intimate relationship with before, all those moments of chemistry and electricity had just upped and disappeared? 

Was this it for their possibilities? Had there ever even been a possibility?

Type slowly nodded, but rather than a nod, it came out looking more like a bowed head because he couldn’t bring himself to pick his head back up, instead staring down at his hands that grasped tightly at the edge of the couch. “Oh. I--that’s. Okay.” Was all he could bring himself to say, trying to avoid looking at Tharn at all because he didn’t want him to see just how much this actually hurt. 

“Is it okay?” Tharn asked, his voice sounding a little bit confused and Type managed to glance quickly up at him, the man looking just as confused as he sounded. 

“Should it not be okay?” Type asked in return instead of answering because how was he supposed to answer? ‘No’? No it wasn’t okay? What would that do except to cause Tharn to suffer. Should Type just say it all right now? That he had feelings for him and that he shouldn’t date his ex who had come back for him and instead to date someone who had never even thought of being in a relationship with a man before this and was literally terrified at the thought of being in one still? That didn’t seem fair. 

“I don’t know.” Tharn shook his head and sighed, lowering his head into his hand to rub at his temple. Type watched him from the corner of his eye, disliking the amount of distress that was lining his face. 

What was there for Tharn to be so distressed about anyway? 

“How does this effect…” Us. “Our sponsorships? Does he know…” 

“He knows.” Tharn interrupted before Type could even finish the thought. “He knows and he gets it and he doesn’t mind. It’s no different than dating an actor who has to do fanservice, right?”

Type swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away, trying to ignore the squeezing of his heart that was suddenly taking place. Fanservice. Was that all he was? Really? He wanted to ask, but he was afraid of the answer.

“I guess.” He agreed instead, trying to keep all sorts of emotion out of his voice. He couldn’t tell whether he was successful or not, however. “Is that why you cancelled on me? You were with him?”

“I had some things to think about. And I do have an early morning tomorrow.” Tharn told him. “We have a gig coming up in a few weeks that we’re preparing for so it’s all day rehearsals for awhile.”

“And then your free time will be spent with your ex--or your boyfriend?” There was a slight bitterness to his tone, he knew it himself.

“And we’ll still hang out. We have to make sure to fulfill the requirements don’t we?”

Type rolled his eyes, unable to keep the disgusted look off of his face before he let out a sigh and pushed himself up. “I’d hate for our requirements to get in the way of you doing your duty as a boyfriend.” He moved to walk passed but Tharn grasped at his wrist before he could leave. 

“Ai’Type… I don’t want things to suddenly get weird. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. Yeah, they were friends, but Type was beginning to truly want more than that, but now he couldn’t have it. Now Tharn was unavailable to the prospect and he couldn’t believe how stupid he was to think that Type would wait until he was ready without even knowing that was what Type had wanted him to do. How could he expect Tharn to wait when Type had never said anything to him about any of it?

It just didn’t feel fair. 

Type took in a breath and held it for a moment before slowly letting it out. He then plastered a smile on his face that was fairly unlike him so he was certain that Tharn could see right through it, but Tharn said nothing of it. “Yeah, of course. We’re friends.” He promised, earning a small smile from his friend. 

It was such a mesh of emotions that Type wasn’t sure which one he should concentrate on, or maybe he should forget them all. It’d be nicer to be numb instead of having this bitter taste in the back of his throat or the slight aching in his chest. 

Type wanted to ask. He so badly wanted to ask Tharn if he had imagined things between them. Had Tharn had feelings for him too? Had he just missed his chance or had his chance never actually been there? Type didn’t know which answer he would rather, but neither sounded all that great to him.

But he didn’t ask, knowing it didn’t matter whatever the answer was because whatever the answer was, his reality was the same. Tharn had chosen his ex and he and Type were to forever be only friends.

He couldn’t stay here. He had to go. There was an aching in his chest that was growing bigger and heavier and it wasn’t a feeling that Type was used to, wasn’t a feeling that he wanted to get used to. He didn’t like it--this feeling of hurt and pain. He was a soccer player. He was used to hurt and pain but getting kicked with literal spiked shoes was not nearly so bad as this.

Type stood quickly, his hands at his side as he tried to think of what to say. Some sort of an excuse to just leave, and then he realized he didn’t really need an excuse. He could just leave. He could turn around and walk out and pretend that none of this hurt at all. 

“I’m gonna head out. Don’t want you to… stay up too late. You said you have an early morning, right?” He kept his voice light, trying to keep all of emotion out of it that he could.

Tharn watched him and slowly nodded. “Yeah. I have an early morning.” 

“You should get some rest. I’ll see you around, okay?” But he didn’t wait for an answer and quickly walked back towards the door. He slipped on his shoes and stepped outside, leaning against the door with a deep breath. Type clenched his eyes shut, feeling a strange stinging at the back of his eyes.

No. He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to cry. He was stronger than this--it was just Tharn. Just stupid Tharn. It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t like he was in love with him or anything. It was just a small crush and a small crush was nothing to cry over.

He opened his eyes and didn’t cry. Type took in a few more deep breaths before he quickly made his way back to his car. He’d gotten the answer he needed to hear, but not necessarily the answer that he wanted.

Type was getting used to not getting what he wanted. 

-

Tharn was feeling a little bit nervous as he packed his stuff away from rehearsal. In a couple of weeks, a music festival was being held and LBC were the headliners for Saturday night so they couldn’t afford to laze about, too busy preparing for their upcoming segments as well as the festival. But that wasn’t what he was nervous about.

He was nervous about his date with Tar. 

He’d been thinking it over for the last few days, carefully planning exactly what he wanted to do and what he thought the other might like. It’d been awhile since he’d seen Tar and Tar’s tastes could’ve very well had changed, but Tharn thought that he knew the other well enough to at least be able to guess at what he might like. He wanted to impress, he wanted to enjoy it. This was going to be the start of their new relationship, and he wanted to start it off on the right foot. 

If only that guilty feeling would go away. 

Guilt was eating at him and Tharn didn’t understand why. What did he have to feel guilty for? He wasn’t sure, but the ill feeling in his stomach was definitely guilt and it was frustrating to Tharn, because all he wanted to do was be excited for the start of a new old relationship. He deserved that. He deserved to be happy. Tar deserved to be happy. So why wasn’t he feeling happy?

He shook the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to think about it. He was going to ignore it and hopefully it went away. Tharn glanced over at Tum, wondering if Tar had told him, but the man had barely even looked at him all of practice, just like usual. Tharn was fairly certain that if Tum knew he was going on a date with his brother, then Tum would’ve cranked up the threatening presence a bit. 

But he didn’t and Tharn was very thankful for that so he thought it best to just keep his mouth shut, ignore Tum as best as he could (which was actually fairly easy) and head home to get ready for his date. 

Tar had decided it would be best if he met Tharn at his apartment rather than have Tharn come pick him up and Tharn, not wanting to deal with Tum, agreed. So he raced home, showered, and thanked God that he had already chosen what he was going to wear so that he didn’t have to waste time in front of his closet trying to decide. 

Just as he was finishing fixing up his hair, he heard a knock at his door and took in a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous. This was Tar. They had dated previously and Tar was easy to be around. He wasn’t complicated and difficult and Tharn didn’t have to guess at his emotions like--

No. He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to compare Type to Tar. That wasn’t fair to Tar--or Type. No, that wasn’t fair to Type because Tar was the one he was dating so of course Tar had unfair advantage. How could it be unfair to Tar? It wasn’t like he was insulting Tar by comparing him to Type, but nor was he insulting Type.

Tharn’s head started hurting.

He shook it, took in another breath and went to answer the door. 

He smiled at the sight of Tar wearing a simple shirt with a simple jacket and simple jeans. Everything was simple, exactly as Tharn had said, and he looked nice. Really nice. There was nothing overly breath-taking, and he certainly didn’t look bad. It was good, just right. 

In the back of his mind, Tharn wondered if that was what a person should think when they saw their date for the first time, but he didn’t have time to think on it, instead inviting Tar in to relax for a moment while he grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“You have a nice place.” Tar stated as he looked around, heading right towards the photographs that hung up on the wall behind Tharn’s couch. “You have photos of us here. And P’Tum--”

“They were good memories. Why wouldn’t I have them?” He replied with a small smile of his own before disappearing to grab his things. He was back a minute later, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket. “Shall we go?”

The both of them headed out and Tharn opened up his passenger side door for Tar. Tar smiled and slid inside and Tharn quickly hurried around to the driver’s side, climbing in.

“So what does Mr. Kirigun have planned for us?” Tar asked, looking over at him as he pulled on his seatbelt. 

“I think you’ll like it.” Tharn pushed confidence into his voice. Tar would definitely love it. He was sure of this. He had planned so carefully to make sure everything would be perfect. “There’s this new restaurant that serves classic French dishes and it’s right down the street from a gelato shop. And there’s a park across the street from that and it has beautiful gardens.” 

“Really?” Tar’s voice sounded amazed and Tharn glanced over as he pulled out of the parking lot to see his eyes slightly wide. “That sounds wonderful, P’Tharn.” 

He let out a small breath, relieved that Tar seemed to find the idea appealing and drove off towards the restaurant. 

It was an expensive and high class place so Tharn had to call in advance and pull some strings. But for the drummer of LBC, it was fairly easy going and they were both whisked off to a reserved table towards the back of the restaurant with its own private little alcove. The last thing that Tharn needed was for pictures of this to circulate and then people would begin to question if he and Type were actually dating. 

But why was he worried about that? He thought to himself as he sat. It wasn’t as if they were actually dating. It was a sponsorship. Tharn was fairly certain most people knew this, other than the fangirls who deluded themselves into thinking that everything was real. Unfortunately, this was not.

Unfortunately. He needed to stop thinking like that. He was on a date with Tar.

He pushed a smile onto his face and picked up the menu, not having any idea of what half of the stuff was and he looked helplessly at Tar who laughed, his smile bright and eyes shining and he really was one of the most precious things Tharn had ever seen.

“I’ll help you order. Don’t worry. I know what’s good--at least if it’s cooked right.” Tar told him and when the waiter came back, he ordered for both of them. 

Candles lit the area just enough so that they could see everything clearly, but there was an obvious romantic atmosphere to the place. A part of Tharn wondered if Type would like a place like this, before deciding that it might make him uncomfortable. Type was more the sort of person he’d rather take to P’Jeed’s bar which, to some, might not seem as classy, but Type was a different sort of person than Tar. It was neither better nor worse, just different.

Tar was a lot more artsy. Type was sporty. The two were truly as different as could be and while Tar was a lot more like himself, Type was the complete opposite, both complementing parts of himself. Type brought out parts of him that Tharn wasn’t sure he liked however. He brought out the part of him that lacked control or ease, while Tar was so much easier to be around.

He cursed himself in his head, reaching for a glass of wine that the waiter had brought to the table. Tharn needed to stop this. He was on a date with Tar, he shouldn’t be thinking of Type. Did he have to keep repeating this to himself?

“P’Tharn, you look troubled. Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Tharn blinked, looking across the table to see Tar’s slightly worried expression. He shook his head, plastering another smile on his face as he set the glass down and reached across the table to cover Tar’s small hand with his much larger one. Tar looked down at their hands and Tharn noticed the smile that lit up his face. “Of course, I was just remembering something I almost forgot to do before the festival in a couple of weeks but it’s something I can do when I get home. Sorry for spacing out.” He lied smoothly and hated himself for it.

“It’s okay.” Tar assured. 

Awhile later, their food came out and truly--it was beautiful. Tharn had no idea what he was eating, if he were to be perfectly honest, but Tar knew his tastes well and picked something out that matched them wonderfully. 

The conversation was comfortable. Tharn mostly asked about France and Tar couldn’t stop talking about how much he had loved it there, but he had missed home and wanted to someday open up his own restaurant cooking all of the foods that he had learned in his time spent overseas. 

There was a true passion on his face as he spoke and Tharn found it amazing to behold, never having seen Tar so happy before in his life. 

Once they were finished with their food and Tharn had paid the bill, the two of them left. It was dark and the lights were lit by lamps. It wasn’t a busy street and so Tharn took Tar’s hand, linking their fingers together. He could feel the other man give his a small squeeze and they took their time as they walked down the street towards the gelato shop, which was just a small little storefront decorated in wood. 

Once they had ordered their dessert, they headed across the street and into the darkened park which was also only lit by a few lamps here and there. Although, Tharn had checked this place out and he gently pulled Tar in the direction of a garden full of different plants and flowers with benches placed around the trees that scattered the area.

“This is so beautiful…” Tar stated, his voice sounding a little breathless as he looked around and Tharn just watched him, pleased that his date was so pleased by what Tharn had decided to do. 

“I wanted something special. It’s been awhile--since we’ve gone on a date together.” He cleared his throat and looked up, peaking at the stars that he could see, despite the bright lights of the city just a bit behind him. 

“Yeah…” Tar’s voice was quiet and Tharn looked back down at him to see him frowning.

“Is everything okay, Tar? Are you sure you liked this? It’s okay if you didn’t.”

“No,” he denied quickly, shaking his head and taking Tharn’s hand. “That’s not it. I loved everything. I loved this. Really.” Tar peered up at him and then took in a deep breath before pointing over at a bench. “Let’s sit.”

Tharn followed him over, the two of them sitting beneath a large oak tree, their hands still locked together. It was warm. 

“P’Tharn…” Tar started slowly, looking nervous and as if he was trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry for breaking up with you back then.”

He blinked, his breath hitching a bit. That hadn't been what he had expected and, to be honest, Tharn wasn’t sure how to reply to that. So he didn’t, instead deciding to let Tar speak.

“I thought it would be easier, for both of us. I don’t know if I regret it really because I got to have experiences that I don’t want to change, and I’m sure you’ve dated some amazing people and experienced some great things too but I… I can’t help but always wonder what sort of things we might have experienced together if I’d never broken up with you.”

“Tar, I--”

“Wait,” He interrupted quickly, scooting a little bit closer to Tharn and Tharn had to turn his head downwards to look at him. “When you asked me out, I was surprised, but happy. If I’m completely honest, I was kind of hoping that you and I could have another shot and to know that you want one too… I almost feel like it’s a dream. But I just want to make sure. This is serious, right? It’s not just because you missed me and wanted to catch up, is it?” Tar looked at him imploringly, almost begging for the answer that he wanted to hear. 

Tharn took in a breath, his eyes glancing over his face. It was a face he knew so well, but also a face that had changed so very much in the time they had spent away from each other. Tar had lost most of his baby-fat, he had grown up and Tharn could tell by the way he held himself and the way that he spoke that he was much more confident than he once had been. 

He was curious, really. Curious if the two of them still had the spark that they once had. And since he had let Type go… 

He squeezed Tar’s hands and smiled, giving a small nod. “This is serious. I think we both owe it to ourselves to see where this goes. Don’t you?”

Tar’s breath visibly and audibly hitched and then the man closed his eyes, a smile lighting up his face more brightly than the lamps that lit up the garden. Tharn reached a hand up, brushing his fingers through the younger’s hair, as he had done six years ago, ruffling it with a playful aura and Tar gave a small laugh, opening his eyes again to lean his head into his hand. 

Tharn felt happy. Happy was enough, wasn’t it?

“May I kiss you?” He murmured, watching as Tar bit on his lower lip and then nodded. Tharn slid his hand down to grip beneath Tar’s chin, tilting his face up as he leaned in, his lips slowly connecting with Tar’s.

There was a warmth and Tharn could clearly feel it. Tar smelled nice and his lips were soft and familiar, although his kissing had clearly gotten better over the years, but Tharn was also sure that his had as well.

There was a warmth, but there was no spark and when Tharn pulled away, he was smiling, but inside he felt as if he had just made a mistake.


	34. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: brief instance of mild sexual assault
> 
> So it seems the very vast majority of you seem to prefer daily updates and slightly shorter chapters! So I will try my best to continue doing that! Thank you <3

“Faster! Run faster!” The coach called and Type huffed as he tried to pick up his speed, tossing a look towards the man commanding them as they run. They were about pushed to their limits and Type could feel an ache in his side from how much he had run already, but the coach didn’t seem to care how much the team was struggling to breath as they ran, too determined to impress Tin Medthanan, the owner of the team’s brother, who was watching by the side lines.

Except he wasn’t even watching. He sat on a bench, legs crossed as he scrolled through his phone and Type really wanted to pick up a soccer ball and chuck it at his head. At the very least, he could pretend to have the decency to actually care, since he was there to supervise and they were the ones having to deal with the consequences of him being around. 

Even with the ache in his side, Type was still doing fairly okay. He could see Techno lagging behind a bit, looking as if he was trying to pace himself but was actually just plain exhausted. Even Aksornpan looked like he was having trouble with the day’s drills and there was one of the younger men on the team looking about ready to keel over and vomit.

It didn’t help that it was incredibly hot. The sun was beating down on them and Type could feel his skin starting to burn. He wished he had remembered his lotion and grimaced, just hoping the burns wouldn’t be too bad at the end of the day.

Type slowed down a little, bringing himself closer to Techno’s pace. “How you doing?” he panted out, glancing over at his friend who just shot him an exhausted look, shaking his head instead of answering, but it was answer enough. Type knew how he was doing. He was doing about the same and he was about to throw in the towel and call it quits if they had to run any further. 

Then he heard a cry from behind and all at once everyone stopped, and the kid who had been looking as if he were going to collapse, Kumluk, did exactly that, collapsing onto his knees and vomitting into the grass. 

Ae who was right next to him dropped down onto his knees, automatically rubbing on his back and speaking to him in a low tone to check if he were okay. They all hesitated as the coach ran over and Medthanan looked up from his phone, the sound of the retching seeming to break him from his concentration on his phone.

The coach kneeled down as well and could be seen saying something before Ae helped Kumluk off the ground and led him back towards the locker room. The coach then turned and called out, “Everyone, take a break! Grab some water! And don’t pass out!” 

Type didn’t need to be told twice and, placing his hand on the ache in his waist, headed over towards the water with Techno, neither saying a word because they were both too exhausted to speak. He tried stretching a bit as he waited for his chance to get water, and just before he could, Aksornpan swooped in front of him, grabbing the cup.

“The fuck?” He cursed out, glaring at the man in front of him who just turned, gave him a smirk, and drank from the water. Type clenched his fists, the heat of the sun and the exhaustion he felt causing his temper to crackle and rise even quicker than normal. “What’s your problem?”

“No problem.” Aksornpan stated, his eyes raking over Type. There was something about it that made him shiver, but he fought from taking a step away. “Just surprised a pussy like you wasn’t the first one to faint.” 

Before he could even take a step forward, Techno grabbed his arm from behind and in the back of his mind, he could register the words telling him to calm down, but that didn’t sound like a great idea so instead he tugged his arm free and took a step towards Aksornpan, grasping at the collar of his training shirt.

“Hey, Type…” Techno tried to warn from behind him, but it only caused Type to tighten the grip on his teammate’s shirt. Aksornpan himself had also lost all humor to his gaze and was now glaring just as harshly back at Type as Type was glaring at him.

“I asked you what the fuck your problem is, Aksornpan.” He hissed beneath his breath. 

“My problem is you.” Aksornpan thrust his hands forward, pushing Type backwards who yanked him along due to his grip on his collar. Techno caught him from behind, stopping their fall and Type pushed Aksornpan away from him quickly, sending him stumbling back and onto the ground, his face contorted in anger.

“Hey! Thiwat! Aksornpan! What the hell are you two doing?” The coach called, hurrying over to the both of them as Ae headed back out of the locker room and onto the field.

Type huffed out, his nostrils flaring in his anger as his temples throbbed with a headache created from the heat and his frustration. 

Aksornpan pushed himself up, looking both angry and smug all at once. “He fucking pushed me. I didn’t even do anything--”

“Oh you’re such a fucking liar, Aksornpan.” Type spat, feeling a hand clenching at his shoulder to keep him in place.

The coach rubbed at the bridge of his nose before glaring at the both of them. “You know what? I’m not dealing with this. You two go wait in the locker room for me to get there and we’re going to fucking talk this out. You’re teammates!” 

Type wanted to refuse, but with another look from the coach, he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter and once again tugged away from Techno, shouldering Aksornpan harshly as he walked passed him and into the empty locker room. He could hear the shower going and figured Kumluk was trying to cool down. 

He could feel his blood pulsing through his veins and quickly opened his locker, grabbing a bottle that he kept in it and downing a good half the water left in it as he heard footsteps from behind him.

“You can’t even handle a fucking comment, can you, fag?” Aksornpan’s voice sounded roughly. Type clenched his hand around his bottle before setting it down, slamming the locker and turning on his heel to face the other. 

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Type’s voice was at a growl, fighting to keep it from getting louder. 

“Why not?” Aksornpan took a small step closer. “Isn’t that what you are? You and your boyfriend are pretty damn close all over IG. I’m so sick of seeing it.”

“I’m--” not, he said in his head, but didn’t finish the sentence, the denial dying on the tip of his tongue. He could so easily say it. He’s not gay. He’s not a f… but he doesn’t, because the idea of being so offended at someone calling him gay was making him just as sick as he had used to feel when someone said that he was. “It’s none of your business what the hell I am.”

“No?” Another step and Type eyed him a little warily, but stood his ground. “Isn’t it? We’re teammates, aren’t we? So what affects you, affects the team.”

“My personal life is mine. Why does it have to affect you?” he questions, not actually expecting an answer. He doesn’t get one anyway.

Instead, Aksorpan grins and there’s another step and this time Type takes a small step backwards, except his back hits the lockers because he had been right against them anyway, and his pulse starts to race in his veins. Something feels off, something doesn’t feel right, and it feels even less right when Aksornpan is resting a hand directly next to his head, closing him in so that he’d have to shove the other away if he wanted to get away.

There were no cameras in the locker room, he suddenly remembered, panic beginning to settle over him. 

“Get the hell away from me.” He stated, but his voice was quiet, the alarm in his head that signaled danger going on full blast. 

“You know…” his eyes raked over Type again and Type’s breath hitched, but it wasn’t in the way that Tharn made his breath hitch. This time it felt as if something were pushing on his chest, cutting off his breath. It wasn’t pleasant at all. “I’m a little curious. What’s so good that someone who… seemed so straight would just go turn gay like that?” The hand by Type’s head dropped down, trailing light fingers down over his jaw, against his neck, and to his shoulder.

Type knew he should move, should do something, but he felt frozen in place, his eyes wide because this was actually happening. It wasn’t some nightmare--but actual, real life. 

“Maybe you should show me. I mean, you’re not hideous.” Aksorpan chuckled, sounding as if he had just made the funniest joke in the world, and then his fingers grabbed at Type’s chin, his other hand pressing against his waist and he moved in closer until their faces were centimeters apart. 

Type held his breath. Why was he frozen? Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he doing something? He could only continue to ask himself this as a thousand images of what might happen began to pop into his head, a hundred different scenarios of what was about to take place. 

“Aksornpan… let me go.” Type warned, but his voice was shaking and not at all threatening and the man just smirked, his hand on his waist sliding along his stomach. Type took in a sharp breath, holding it and then closed his eyes. It would be so easy to get away from this if he could just move… 

And then there were lips on his neck and something snapped inside of him. Type brought his leg up, his knee connecting with Aksorpan’s groin. There was a sharp gasp and Type pushed him to the ground, his fist connecting with his face as he tumbled down on top of him. He pressed one hand to Aksornpan’s shoulder, forcing him back as the other tried to get up, smashing his fist into his face for another time.

“Don’t… fucking… touch… me!” He yelled down at him, accentuating each word with another punch before he heard a scream and suddenly he was being dragged off. Type kicked his legs as he was pulled back, his cleats slamming into Aksornpan’s legs, the other man letting out a pained cry. “You sick fuck!” 

“Thiwat! Thiwat!” The coach screamed as he shoved him back into a locker, holding him as far away from Aksornpan as he could. Type panted, trying to get control of himself, but he was shaking and trembling, the feeling of the other’s hands still touching him vivid against his flesh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“He just attacked me!” Aksornpan yelled from the ground, clutching at his leg where a couple of other members were quickly pressing a rag to, a few lines of blood trailing along his leg caused by Type’s spikes. Type felt very satisfied by it. “I didn’t do a fucking thing and he just started hitting me out of nowhere!”

“That’s such a fucking lie, Aksornpan!” Type yelled back, lunging forward again but the coach pressed him back against the lockers again and then he felt a hand to his shoulder and looked over to see Techno looking panicked next to him. He huffed and turned back towards the coach and Aksornpan. “He just--he…” but the words locked up in his throat. Who would believe him if he were to say it? 

“He what, Thiwat?” The coach said seriously and then it was deadly silent in the locker room and Type noticed that everyone was there and everyone was looking at him, including that Medthanan guy and Kumluk, wet from the shower. 

Type swallowed and clenched his eyes before quickly opening them as the image of Aksornpan’s face right up against his flashed through his mind. “He touched me.” He kept his voice quiet so that only Techno and the coach could hear.

The coach stared at him for a moment before taking a breath and turning to the others. “Did anyone see anything?” There was only a continued silence and Type felt a sinking in his stomach. Nobody had seen anything. Nobody had been there. There were no cameras and all anyone had seen was him beating Aksornpan to a bloody pulp.

He looked at Aksornpan as he wiped at his nose, his face red and bruised, and then he looked down at his hand, his knuckles cut and bleeding and aching. 

Nobody was going to believe him. 

There was a large sigh from the coach who stepped back and Type fell limp against the lockers. That panicked feeling was coming back and now for an entirely different reason. 

“No one saw anything, Type.” The coach stated softly, looking at him with a pitiful gaze that told Type that he didn’t believe him at all, even if Type was telling the truth. Aksornpan was a homophobic asshole and Type apparently had a boyfriend. Why would Aksornpan try something like that. “Type. I’m going to have to ask you to leave practice. I need to think. Tomorrow come in at nine am to have a talk with me and we’re going to figure out what the hell we’re going to do about this.” 

Techno’s hand squeezed Type’s shoulder and this time Type didn’t pull away.

“In the mean time… shit--someone get Aksornpan to the doctor. Make sure his leg isn’t fucked up.” 

There was a rustling as some of the others helped him up and he could feel Aksornpan’s glare on him, but Type didn’t look up from where his gaze was locked on the floor. He now felt like he was the one who was going to vomit.

“Thiwat--go.” 

He hesitated only a moment longer before turning and pulling his locker open. He grabbed his stuff and only bothered to put on his normal shoes before he hurried out, ignoring the sound of Techno calling for him, telling him to wait.

He didn’t want to wait. He just wanted to be gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Type deserved to kick that guy's ass. But what goes from here...


	35. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy #FirstMetMewGulf anniversary day Sweethearts!!! <3 
> 
> Now, let's find out what Type is going to do after all that from the last chapter... :(

Tharn pulled up in front of Tar’s house, holding in his breath as he parked and glanced towards the window where he could see Tum staring out from it. Tar had apparently told his brother and while Tum hadn’t said anything during their last rehearsal, he had been able to feel it in the looks being shot towards him.

They were a clear warning; “don’t you hurt Tar”. Tharn wanted to tell him he wouldn’t, and he really didn’t mean to, but as he smiled at Tar and wished him a good night, he could still feel that guilt inside him that he’d held ever since their first date the week before. The guilt that told him he had made a mistake, but now it was too late to back out. He didn’t want to hurt Tar, not after saying yes to this. And maybe for so long he had wished for another chance with him, for so long that he had tricked himself into believing that he still wanted one, but he knew now that was just himself trying to move on from Type.

And it wasn’t working. 

Tar didn’t seem to notice however and when he kissed him goodbye, Tharn let himself kiss back briefly before pulling away with the excuse that Tum was watching. Tar rolled his eyes with a smile and agreed that it was better that the two of them part now less Tum come storming out of the house to drag him away. Tharn didn’t doubt that was a very real possibility at all and wished him goodnight and started back on his way to his apartment. 

He kept the music off for once, too busy thinking for that. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Was it right to break up with someone barely a week after beginning to date them? Should he just stick with it and see if maybe he started to feel differently? Which one was the coward’s way out and did it even matter? 

Maybe he should’ve thought of all of this before he had gone on a date with Tar, before he had asked to kiss him. Maybe things wouldn’t be so complicated… but he just hadn’t known back then. Now he knew however, and he was still no closer to figuring out what he wanted to do.

He would have to go home and think on it some more because obviously thinking on it for a full week was doing absolutely nothing. But maybe that’s just because his resolve to actually tell Tar that this had been a mistake weakened every time he saw the younger man. Was it the right thing to do?

Tharn sighed and parked his car in the lot. He shut it off, undid his seatbelt and then leaned back into the seat. He wished that somebody else could make up his mind for him. It’d be much easier to just do what someone else told him to do than trying to follow his own instinct. At least he could blame someone else and not himself if he made the wrong decision.

He twirled the keys around his fingers and made his way upstairs, staring down at his feet as he walked. Was Tar happy with him? Did he really not notice Tharn’s overwhelming sense of guilt whenever they were near each other? It was almost unbelievable to believe so. 

This just wasn’t fair to Tar. He knew that. It also wasn’t fair to himself. But the person that stayed on his mind most of all, the one he couldn’t stop thinking about wasn’t either of them. But Type. This wasn’t fair to Type--

“Tharn.” He looked up, blinking as he saw an exhausted looking Tharn standing by his door. His heart swelled with something like happiness before it deflated when he got a good look at him. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his fingers through it and his clothes were kinda wrinkly and disheveled as if he hadn’t been bothered looking at what he had pulled on. It wasn’t like Type.

“Ai’Type--what’s going on?” He questioned, taking a small step forward as Type stared at him and then he did something that Tharn hadn’t expected; he wrapped his arms around Tharn and hugged him.

He was frozen but his body felt warm. After a moment, he snapped out of his shock and slowly brought his arms around Type, hugging him back and not saying anything more, just letting the other sink into his arms and bury his head into his shoulder. It felt so comfortable, holding him, but this felt wrong because something was wrong with Type.

Tharn brought his hand up and pressed it to the back of the other’s head, softly stroking before he remembered that they were in the hall and he knew that Type wouldn’t be happy if they were seen so he pressed his lips closed to the other’s ear and spoke quietly. “Let’s get inside, okay? You can tell me what’s going on?”

Type hesitated for a moment before nodding against his head and slowly pulling away. Tharn pulled out his apartment key and unlocked the door, letting Type inside first. The two of them pulled their shoes off and Tharn told him to get comfortable. Type automatically went and collapsed onto the couch, pulling a pillow to hug to his chest as Tharn pulled some water from the fridge. 

Once he was done with that, he went over to the couch himself, setting the water down for Type to drink when he wanted it and then joined him right on the couch next to him.

Almost right away, Type lowered his head back onto Tharn’s shoulder. His breath hitched a little and he raised his hand again, brushing the strands away that were beginning to fall into Type’s face. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t push, deciding to let Type speak to him whenever he was ready to. 

“I think I messed up.” Type murmured so lightly that Tharn almost didn’t hear him.

“Huh?” he tilted his head, looking down at him. He could feel Type’s breath blow against his shirt and then the other sat up, grabbing the water from the table to drink. 

“I beat someone up at practice today.” 

“Huh?” Tharn repeated, this time his voice a little louder as the shock spilled out of him. Type… attacked someone? He knew that the other could be aggressive, but that just didn’t seem like something Type did out of the blue. “What happened? You wouldn’t do that for no reason… would you?”

Type glanced out of the corner of his eye, giving him a look. “He was saying things and I just…” Type pursed his lips and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and Tharn glanced him over, noticing how the other’s shoulders tensed and how his hands clenched around the glass in his hand. 

Slowly, Tharn lifted his own hand and then placed it against Type’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, trying to let him know that it was okay and that he didn’t have to say anything, but without the use of words. As if understanding what he was trying to say, Type slowly began to relax and let out a breath before setting the water down and opening his eyes to look at him. 

“He was… saying and doing things and I--I freaked out.” Type admitted, biting down on his lip. There was more to it and Tharn could tell, but he wasn’t sure if it was something that was okay to ask about. “And now--now the coach wants to see me tomorrow morning. No one saw anything so they can’t verify my word against Aksornpan’s and since he’s the one who probably has a broken nose and a messed up leg, my word isn’t looking so good.”

Tharn took in a deep breath, not really knowing what to say or how to comfort. Normally, he could be fairly good at it, but what did a person say in a situation like this? He didn’t know the details of what happened, but he was sure Type had his own reasons. Still, that didn’t mean other people would see his side of things, especially if nobody had seen what had happened. 

But he had to say something. “Ai’Type… I’m sure it’s going to be okay. It’s probably a formality and maybe you’ll just have to run some extra laps.” Tharn tried to joke, happy when he saw a small smile flicker across his friend’s lips. 

“I hope you’re right.” Type said lightly and then, for a third time, leaned his head against Tharn’s shoulder. This time he rubbed his head against him and loosely wrapped his arms around Tharn’s, holding onto him.

“Why did you come see me? Not… I don’t know, Techno?” He asked carefully, not wanting to ruin the moment but all too curious. And maybe he was holding his breath as he awaited the answer, but that didn’t mean anything. 

Type glanced up and Tharn could see the tell-tale signs of embarrassment in the way the tip of Type’s ears began to turn red. “Techno has his own things going on and… I wanted to talk to you. Only because you’re better at this stuff than Techno--” Type added quickly and maybe Tharn was a hopeless fool, but a part of him didn’t believe that to be the reason at all.

“You can always talk to me.” Tharn promised him gently and Type looked up. When their eyes met, Tharn felt his breath hitching and, if he wasn’t imagining things, Type looked as if he wasn't breathing either. His lips were parted and somewhat dry looking and Tharn yearned to lean in and wet them for him but instead he pulled away, placing his hands on his knees and remembered.

Tar. He couldn’t do this. He needed to put some distance. “Are you hungry? Did you drive here?” He asked, standing suddenly and taking a few steps away. “What time do you need to be at that meeting in the morning? It’s getting late, you should probably go get some sleep.”

He tried avoiding looking at Type, but he could feel his gaze and when he turned his head back around to look at the other, Type was indeed staring at him and he breathed out sharply through his nostrils. He could handle this, he told himself.

“Can I…” Type hesitated and then took in a deep breath, looking him firmly in the eyes, determined. “Can I stay? The night, I mean. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tharn stared at him, feeling a heavy lump in the pit of his stomach. He should say no. He should send Type home, tell him it was better that way because he had a boyfriend, an actual boyfriend, not a fake one, not like they were, but he couldn’t get his mouth open to say it. When he thought about it, Type didn’t feel like a fake boyfriend to him at all, and Tar didn’t feel like a real one. It was messed up and in a way cruel towards everyone involved, including himself, but it wasn’t something he knew how to fix, at least not in a way that didn’t involve hurting someone.

And Tharn didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to hurt Tar. He was such a happy, bright person and the idea of hurting a person like that crushed him.

But then he looked at Type and the idea of hurting him practically made Tharn want to vomit. Type was tougher. He could handle something like that, probably, but it didn’t mean that was the right move. And he couldn’t do it. The idea of hurting Type was worse than hurting Tar, and didn’t that tell him everything that he needed to know? 

“You can stay.” He said finally, dropping his arms that he hadn’t realized he’d crossed down by his sides. “You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“But--”

“Type.” He gave him a look and Type pursed his lips and narrowed his brows. “I’m… you know.”

“It’s just to sleep.” Type told him, sounding so sure of it that Tharn wondered if maybe he had started reading into things too much. “I promise.”

If Tharn were stronger he’d say no anyway. If Tharn were stronger he’d tell Type he had changed his mind and that he should go home, at least until he could talk to Tar. But Tharn wasn’t stronger, so he didn’t do that.

Instead he agreed and the smile that Type gave him was so comforted and relaxed that he almost forgot the very reason he had been going to say no in the first place.

Tharn went and pulled out some clothes for Type to put on, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom to change. He let out a slow breath and changed himself. Normally, he probably wouldn’t bother with a shirt, but he took to making sure to wear one whenever Type was over. As he finished changing, the door opened and he turned to look over his shoulder, breath catching in his throat at the sight of Type wearing his clothes.

Type was a bit taller than he was, but a lot more slender so the sweats, though they were of the stretchy short, were loose on his legs, however the shirt hung from him, one side swooping a little low on his shoulder to reveal some skin. Type seemed to notice his looking and quickly pulled the sleeve up and climbed onto the bed.

He shook his head, letting out the breath and trying to calm himself. This was a usual sleepover. Nothing different. Nothing unusual.

He repeated this to himself as he climbed into the bed and beneath the covers, staring up at the ceiling as he tended to do whenever Type was in his bed. How often had he thought of these exact scenarios of Type being in his bed? How often had he imagined it going differently? But now when he did, the feeling of guilt clung to his imagination. He couldn’t so freely think up scenarios any longer.

Type curled up beneath the covers like he usually did, looking just like a spoiled kid with his eyes wide, as if he’s trying to communicate something but Tharn didn’t know what it could possibly be. Tharn found himself glancing over every few moments, wondering if Type was going to look away or close his eyes, but it didn’t happen and he sighed, rolling over onto his side. 

“Ai’Type. You should sleep.” He stared across at him, his voice firm and Type’s eyes widened before he looked down and Tharn noticed the way the blanket scrunched from beneath. 

The other let out a nod and then let his eyes flutter shut. Tharn watched him, looking at the way his brows furrowed out of stress and sighed gently, moving a little bit closer. He lifted his hand out from beneath the blanket and pressed his thumb between his brows, rubbing slowly and lightly. 

Type’s facial muscles seemed to relax at the touch, his lips parting again as he breathed out between them. Tharn’s own lips were parted a little, his mouth feeling a bit dry, but he tried to ignore it, moving his hand from his forehead to his hair and scratching his fingers through, scraping his nails across his scalp.

Type let out a soft noise, pressing into the touch and it created a stirring in Tharn’s stomach that had him pulling his hand back and rolling over onto the opposite side so that his back faced Type.

He breathed out heavily through his mouth, his heart pounding in his chest as he clutched at his pillow. What was he doing? He really shouldn’t be doing this. He had to control himself.

There was a rustling from behind him and then he felt the bed dip a bit more as Type scooted closer. He felt a hand press against his back and heard Type say, “It’s okay, Ai’Tharn… I’m going to sleep now. Good night.” And then, almost as if he were a weight being lifted, Type rolled away and faced the other direction.

Tharn pushed his head into his pillow and let out a slow breath, trying to calm himself down. Nothing happened. It was fine. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t do that to Tar. Not before he got a chance to speak to him and figure these things out.

Slowly, he drifted off into sleep and when he woke up the next morning, Type was gone. On a note beside his bed, there were the words _‘Gotta go. Meeting. I’ll text you after.’_ sprawled in Type’s messy handwriting.

Tharn picked it up, staring at it, and in a small voice said, “Good luck, Type.”


	36. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I'd like to start off by saying... please take a look at the rating for this story. It is rated thus for a reason. Okay, got it? Good.
> 
> Now. I know a lot of you are going to be happy, some will probably be upset, and others will be a mix of both. It's a whole slew of emotions for this chapter, honestly and I just hope you guys decide to stick it out through the next chapter at least. Just remember... people are human. They make human choices and not always good choices. And I like to aim for realism so not everything is always going to be good or correct.
> 
> Enough with that. On with the story!

Type felt like jumping up from the seat and running to the bathroom to vomit, but he pushed the urge down, trying to tell himself that it was going to be okay. Everything was going to be fine, because Tharn was right. This was all probably just some formality. It’s not like Aksornpan was seriously injured. Maybe a broken nose (Type hoped a broken nose), and he’d be okay and this would all just go away and they could go back to doing what they were supposed to be doing--soccer. 

Champ had offered to come with him as moral support as both friend and manager but Type told him it was fine. He wanted to do this alone. Truth being, he didn’t think he could stand anyone else being there in case it did all go to shit. He didn’t want anyone else to see how he might react--he didn’t know how he would react in that scenario, and that scared the hell out of him.

The coach wasn’t there yet, even though it was passed the time for their meeting to start and this just made Type more antsy. He wanted to get this over with, no matter what the outcome was, so that he could know and be done with it.

But it was going to be fine. He had to trust that. He had to trust in Tharn’s words because Type wasn’t sure of that.

The door opened behind him and in walked the coach. He fought from turning and straight out asking him what his decision was, his heart pounding in his chest as he clenched his hands around the armrests of the seat. The coach sighed as he sat, setting some papers down and then looking straight at him.

He said nothing and Type said nothing and Type’s foot bounced. He pursed his lips, trying to be patient but the coach had this look on his face and Type could feel his hopes were about to be dashed, but still--he kept that small bit of hope alive. He had to hold onto it, to cling to it. It was going to be okay. Tharn was right--it was going to be okay.

Tharn was wrong.

“I’ve talked to Aksornpan.” The coach stated finally, leaning back into his seat with a grim look and Type held his breath. “Type. Do you have anything that can prove your side of the story?” 

Type wracked his head, even though he knew the answer already. No one had been there. The locker room had no cameras. There was nothing. He took in a breath and shook his head and the coach frowned. 

“In that case… I’m going to have to suspend you from the team, Type.” 

His breath was knocked from him and he could feel his heart clench painfully in his chest. “S-suspend?” he stuttered out, his eyes widening in disbelief. He had thought… no matter what he had thought, he had never expected something like this. “But, coach, he--”

“You can’t prove it.” He interrupted firmly. “All I know is that you attacked Aksornpan. That’s all I can confirm, Type. He has a broken nose and a cut up leg because you used your cleats as a weapon to kick him while we were pulling you away, do you remember that, Type?” 

Type breathed in sharply and closed his eyes tightly for a moment, cursing himself for having lost so much control. But then, could he really blame himself? After what Aksornpan had tried to do. But no one was going to believe it. 

“He’s agreed not to press charges against you or against anyone else so long as we suspend you from the team--and honestly, that’s the best option that I can see.” Type felt like he wanted to vomit again, but he stuck firm in the chair, staring down at the desk in front of him as the coach continued to speak. “And, frankly, Type--I had already been thinking about it.”

Type’s head snapped up. “Thinking about suspending me? What for? I didn’t do anything.” 

“The last few months, Type, you’ve been out of it. You’ve been skipping practices, distracted when you’re here, you’ve just not been doing well. I thought better of it because recently you’ve been back on your game just in time for the season to start, but now this? And accusing Aksornpan of touching you without any proof?”

“He did--”

The coach held up his hand and Type snapped his mouth shut, feeling his body start to heat up, but he wasn’t sure if it was in embarrassment or in anger. Perhaps a mix of both. “I thought I would try to look passed what’s going on in your private life because it’s not any of my business as long as you play well. But every since you started dating that… rockstar--you’ve been all over the news for things other than your playing. Like I said, you’ve missed practices and just aren’t focusing. He’s been a bad influence on what your passion is, Type and now you’re accusing someone of doing something so horrible without any proof. And Aksornpan isn’t the only one who has brought reservations about you being on the team to me either.”

“I--what?” He sat back against his chair, feeling knocked free of all breath. People had complained about him? But for what? Type really hadn’t done anything. 

“Some of the guys on the team feel uncomfortable with you around ever since you turned…” the coach waved his hand and Type felt a sudden stinging in the back of his eyes but fought it away, bringing his hands down to his lap to fist them in his pants. “And now this? I have no reason to keep you on this team. We’ll see how it goes and what comes of it, but until then--you’re suspended indefinitely for attacking a teammate. And that’s a light punishment, Type. Aksornpan could’ve prosecuted if he wanted to, remember that. You should be thankful to him that he didn’t.”

Thankful? Type almost wanted to laugh but he was too busy trying not to lash out in his anger--or cry. Aksornpan had touched him. He’d tried to… and he was the one being punished for defending himself? All because it was so difficult to believe something like that without proof? Where was the fairness in all of this? Did it exist at all?

He pushed himself up from the chair and turned sharply to leave. The coach didn’t call him back and he didn’t stop. Type went to his locker and pulled all of his stuff out, not bothering to close it before rushing back to the parking lot and to the car as his breathing got a bit heavier and his chest tighter. 

Once he had slammed the car door shut, he brought his hands down sharply against the wheel, the horn blasting and he quickly pulled back, letting out a scream in frustration, but it seemed to only cause his anger to clear and for reality to hit him.

He had just lost the thing he loved most in this world. 

Type felt his shoulder’s shake and he clenched his hands around the wheel, leaning his head down as he breathed deeply in and out. His entire body trembled and he blinked, touching his cheeks and when he pulled his fingers away, he felt a wetness that hadn’t been there a moment ago. 

He let out a choked noise and started the car. Type wiped at his face and took in a few deep breaths and then just drove. He wasn’t sure where he was driving too, but his subconscious seemed to know exactly where he wanted to be, because fifteen minutes later, he found himself parking outside of Tharn’s apartment again. 

Thankfully, he saw Tharn’s car in the lot as well and let out a breath, relieved that his friend was home. He shut the car off and pulled himself from his vehicle, making his way to Tharn’s apartment. He was known by now and got in easily through all the security.

Was it too much, coming to see Tharn again after the night before? Should he leave him alone? But the idea of leaving him alone, not being around him, just made him feel worse and he shook the idea from his head. Type didn’t care anymore. Tharn was the only one who he wanted to be around and why should he deny himself that?

He lifted his hand and knocked on the door.

It only took a few moments for the door to be pulled open and when he saw Tharn standing there, his expression turning into one of concern, Type’s breath caught. How was someone so absolutely perfect? How was it fair that Tharn was so much all at once that Type didn’t know how he had ever tried to trick himself into thinking that he wasn’t falling for him? Because here he was, standing before Tharn, and all he wanted to do was throw himself at him and be held.

So that’s what he did.

He lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Tharn and he buried his head into his shoulder, his body beginning to tremble again as he let the emotions that had been building up inside of him out. 

“Type?” Tharn’s voice was as full of concern as his expression had been and he felt himself being pulled forward and then heard the door closed. It’d probably be easier on Tharn to let go of him, but he didn’t want to, and instead clung even more tightly, relaxing only when Tharn’s hands found their way around his slim waist, one hand pressing to the back of his head. “Hey… hey, I’m here, Type. I have you.”

Type took in a shuddering breath and then breathed in, Tharn’s scent wafting up his nostrils and surrounding him. He was so warm and comfortable and Type knew he could stand here for hours, just hugging him. 

Fingers stroked through his hair and he could hear a light humming, Tharn’s breath hot against his ear. He pressed himself closer, his fingers twisting in Tharn’s shirt and then he felt himself moving, being pulled over to the couch. The two of them sat down on it, Type not once letting go of Tharn, and just stayed like that, basking in the comfort that the other man brought him. 

“It’s okay.” Tharn repeated. “It’s going to be okay.” Type felt like he believed him. 

“I got suspended.” Type murmured after a few minutes of just being held. He could feel Tharn’s hand stutter to a halt before it began to stroke at his hair again. “I had no proof that Aksornpan--that he… he touched me, so all they saw was that I attacked him.”

“He… touched you?” Tharn’s hand around his waist tightened and Type pulled back a little to look at the other. He gave a small nod and Tharn let out a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring, but otherwise seemed to be controlling himself. Was Tharn angry for him? Why did that make Type feel happy. 

“He got what was coming to him.” Type raised his head a little, thinking about how he’d broken the guy’s nose and feeling pleased before remembering the outcome. “Fuck… what am I going to do, Tharn?” He wanted someone to tell him because he really didn’t know otherwise, but he knew that there was probably no correct answer to this issue.

“I don’t know, Type.” He admitted softly, his hand slowly rubbing up and down his back. It caused Type’s skin to tingle and he closed his eyes, sucking lightly on his lower lip as he began to imagine how it would feel beneath his shirt instead of on top of it. “But whatever you do, you’ve got me.”

Type wanted to ask if that was correct, but couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and ruin the mood. He liked it this way. Liked how easy it was to just relax into Tharn’s embrace, to pretend that everything really was okay, and that he did actually have him in the way that he so yearned for. 

He was angry at himself. Angry for losing control with Aksornpan, angry for having fought against what he really wanted for so long, angry for not speaking up sooner, and angry for his lack of courage to say so now. He could do it. Nothing was stopping him. And didn’t he deserve to say what was on his mind, speak about his emotions? 

If anyone could understand them, it would be Tharn. 

“Do I really have you, Ai’Tharn?” He murmured, feeling Tharn’s hands freeze around him and Type pulled back, sitting up to turn and look at Tharn who was staring at him in confusion. Type took in a breath and then slowly let it out, shifting on the couch to face him better. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course we are, Type.” Tharn’s hand trailed from his waist down to the couch and Type glanced down before grabbing at it, his skin tingling where their hands touched. Tharn began to lightly rub his thumb against the back of Type’s hand and it felt so right that Type could hardly believe he had ever not wanted this.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, scooting closer so that their knees bumped together and Type’s face was only a few inches away. Type could see how Tharn breathed in deeply and held it, their eyes connecting and he could feel the energy between the two of them. Pure chemistry and his heart began to race, his blood rising in temperature as he pressed his free hand to Tharn’s knee. “Because… it doesn’t feel like just friends to me.”

The confusion in Tharn’s eyes faded away, but he didn’t move, sitting with his back straight and staring directly at Type. Type almost had difficulty keeping his gaze, but he forced himself to remain steady. He was tired. He was so exhausted from running from himself and from Tharn and what they could be… he didn’t want to run anymore.

“Type--I…” but the words died on Tharn’s lips. Whatever he was going to say was lost when Type leaned in and pressed his mouth to Tharn’s. He felt as if he had stopped breathing, his hand clenching on Tharn’s knee as he pushed harder into the kiss, moving his mouth against the one that barely moved at all. 

He was going to pull away, devastated at the lack of reciprocation, before he felt Tharn relax and a hand touch his face. Tharn’s lips started moving against his, their mouths sucking at each other and Type pressed harder into the kiss, sliding an arm back around Tharn’s neck to pull him closer, kiss him deeper. 

He could feel Tharn’s hand run up his side, fingers clenching into his shirt, bunching it up around his waist. Type nipped quickly, tugging Tharn’s bottom lip into his mouth, pleased to hear the hiss that was made against his lips, and then he flicked out his tongue, trying to sooth the bitten area.

Type slid his fingers up into Tharn’s hair, admiring how soft it felt between them. Tharn moaned against his mouth, leaning heavier into the kiss until Type was slowly being lowered onto his back, Tharn’s larger body hovering over him as the kissing grew deeper. Tharn’s tongue delved into his mouth and Type eagerly played along, chasing Tharn’s tongue with his own.

He felt breathless as Tharn moved back, sliding his lips along his jawline, leaving a wet trail that led to his throat. Type tilted his head back, arching his neck as he enjoyed the small nips that were being littered against his skin. Tharn’s large hands rested on his waist, massaging his sides and Type quickly placed his hand atop of one, sliding it beneath his shirt. 

The cool metal of Tharn’s thumb ring against his heated skin caused Type to hiss and the noise only seemed to spurn Tharn on as he nudged his knee in between Type’s legs, spreading them apart. Type cooperated, lowering one leg onto the ground and pulling the other up to give Tharn more room to work with as he shifted his shirt around, trying to bring his lips to closer to his chest. Eventually, he seemed to have enough of messing with the fabric however, because the next thing Type knew, the cloth was being pulled up and over his head, Type having to raise his hands so that Tharn could remove it and he watched as the other toss it away before swooping down to attach his lips back to his chest.

He took in a breath, his hand finding Tharn’s hair again and he tugged at it, earning a bite in return. “Ai’Tharn…” he moaned out, all thoughts except how good this felt fleeing from his head. Why hadn’t he given in sooner? Why had he held himself back for so long?

Tharn lifts his head, his eyes looking dark and hungered and Type’s breath caught as he met them. He could already feel the marks beginning to form over his chest and he tugged on Tharn’s hair, pulling him back up to kiss him again, not having had enough of the taste of him. Tharn kissed back, his hands eagerly running along his body and Type followed suit, trailing his hand down along his spine until it got to the bottom of his shirt and then he started to pull.

He tossed the shirt on the ground as Tharn sat up in between his legs, dressed only in a pair of sweats and Type swallowed tightly as he could see the outline of his cock beginning to harden. He forced himself to pull his eyes up, letting them drink in the sight of Tharn shirtless before him. It wasn’t even close to the first time he’d seen Tharn without a shirt, but it was only the second time like this and the first time he’d been so drunk and it’d been so long that he barely remembered it.

Slowly, he lifted his hand, watching Tharn’s chest heave as he breathed heavily. Before he could touch, Tharn grabbed his hand and placed it on one of his pecs and Type took in a shuddering breath as the other man slowly pulled his hand down to feel him over. Each muscle was so perfectly structured, it was a real wonder that Tharn was a musician and not some sort of athlete.

He licked over his lips. 

“How’s that feel?” Tharn murmured, his eyes staring right into him and Type felt more exposed than he ever had.

“Good.” He said honestly and then he leaned up, pressing his own lips to Tharn’s chest, tasting his skin. He could taste the soap from Tharn’s shower still lingering on his skin and wondered if maybe after they were done, if he might want to take another one--with an additional Type to go along with him.

His tongue followed the curves of his muscles and he could feel Tharn’s breathing get even heavier beneath his mouth. Type flicked his tongue over one of Tharn’s nipples before sucking it into his mouth, glancing up at him beneath his lashes. His heart raced a bit faster as he saw the way Tharn was staring at him; as if he was seeing the most beautiful thing and in that moment, Type felt like he was the most beautiful thing.

Tharn pulled Type’s head back gently and then lowered himself until they were eye to eye. Type could barely stop himself from fluttering his eyes closed in embarrassment, the heat from his body traveling both up to his ears and down further south. 

“Let’s move to my bedroom.” He whispered out breathily, as if this were some sort of secret and Type nodded, moving to get up, but Tharn stopped him, instead sliding Type’s arms around his shoulders and then picking him up by the legs, wrapping them around his waist. Type took in a breath and held on tightly, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing Tharn once they were in the hall. There was a laugh against his lips and Tharn pulled back. “I can’t see where I’m going if you kiss me like that. I’ll trip.”

“There are worse ways to go out.” Type replied, but decided to behave and soon he was sat on the bed with Tharn pushing him back again. Tharn’s lips attacked at his throat once more and the two of them moved further up the bed until Type was lying amongst the pillows. “You… really like my neck.” He breathed out and felt Tharn laugh against his neck.

“It’s… fun to kiss.” Tharn admitted, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, dropping another kiss beneath his chin. Type tilted his head back, chewing on his lower lip. He pressed his hand to Tharn’s shoulder, sliding it along his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his touch. 

Tharn slowly moved down, kissing along his chest, running his tongue directly down his middle until he got to the waist of his pants and then he glanced up, his eyes asking a question without words and Type nodded. Not needing any more signals, Tharn began to remove his pants, tugging them down Type’s thighs, dropping more kisses wherever there was exposed skin. 

Type felt so warm and comfortable. There wasn’t any nervousness. Maybe it helped that he had experienced this with Tharn before, but it felt like more than that. That night on New Years had been the result of being drunk and horny and giving into his urges which he had fought for so long. Tonight was all because Tharn was there for him. Because Type had very real feelings for him that he no longer wanted to deny. He wanted to embrace them and seeing Tharn in between his legs, lips sucking a dark mark against his skin just felt so right. 

His boxers were bunched up as Tharn moved the fabric out of the way to have more access to Type’s skin. He breathed out slowly, wanting to tell him to just get rid of the damn fabric, but he enjoyed the way Tharn seemed to want to take his time, to appreciate him. He felt cared for in a way that he never had before. 

Tharn’s palm slid over the front of his boxers and Type tilted his head back with a gasp, his hips arching off of the bed to grind himself up against the touch. “How’s this feel, Type?” Tharn questioned, his voice low and eyes wide as if he were gazing at something beautiful.

“C-can’t you tell how it feels?” He stuttered out, sucking on his lip and Tharn pressed his palm a bit more firmly against him. “Good!” he moaned out, pressing his head back into the pillow. “It f-feels fucking good…”

Then he felt Tharn’s fingers dip beneath the waistband and his boxers were being pulled down his thigh. The cool air hit him and caused him to shiver, but he wasn’t cold for much longer when Tharn kissed him, pressing his body down against him. He still wore his sweats, the fabric rubbing against Type’s bare skin, and he could feel the very distinct hardness against his thigh and groaned, sliding his hand down the back of Tharn’s pants.

He started pushing them down, scraping his nails against Tharn’s skin, but Tharn moved away before he could get it more than a couple of inches. Type was about to complain, but Tharn stood, shoving his sweats and underwear down his legs and kicking them off and Type’s mouth went dry and he forgot what he was going to say. 

He could feel his legs spreading, a sort of subconscious movement by his own body to reveal his wants and needs. But all he could focus on was what hung between Tharn’s and the knowledge that soon he’d get to have it inside of him.

Before he knew it, Tharn was back on top of him, kissing him again, but this time it was deeper, more passionate. Type flung his arm around him, holding him against him as he met the kiss with eagerness. He could feel Tharn’s cock pressing against his hip and whimpered a little into the other’s mouth. Tharn tried to pull back from the kiss but Type followed him, nipping on his lip to keep their mouths connected. 

Tharn laughed against his mouth and pressed his hands to Type’s shoulders, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Give me a second.” Type pouted his lips a little but watched as Tharn reached over into his bedside drawer, reaching for something and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.

Type swallowed, his stomach clenching tightly as he shifted against the blankets. 

“If I remember correctly…” Tharn’s words were teasingly slow as he opened the bottle, taking some lube onto his fingers. “You were very vocal when we did on New Years.”

Type narrowed his eyes and glared up at him, his ears flaming up. “Shut the fuck up…” he cursed, grumbling and Tharn grinned, his eyes sparkling. Tossing the lube to the other side of the bed, he pushed Type’s legs open even further and Type lay back, taking in a deep breath.

“You’re sure about this?” Tharn hesitated, his fingers only mere inches from his entrance and Type slowly took his hand, moving it closer to him without saying a word, telling Tharn everything he needed to know with his actions. He was sure. He wanted this.

Wanted Tharn. 

Tharn didn’t waste another moment, sliding a lubed finger along his ring of muscle and Type sucked in a breath, eyes closing as he tilted his head back and just let himself feel. They worked inside of him, lubing up his walls and muscle, but he could also feel Tharn playing about, twisting his fingers and prodding at his walls. Each touch made Type jerk and hiss and raise his hips up to push into the finger. When Tharn pressed in another finger, Type felt a little dizzy, his body hot as he whined for Tharn to move his fingers inside of him faster.

He didn’t however, seeming to decide to take his sweet time stretching and prepping Type. This was okay too, he thought to himself as he moaned out when Tharn pressed his long fingers so deep inside of him that they nudged a very important spot. 

Tharn’s breath was getting heavier just from watching him, he could hear it, and when he blinked his eyes open and glanced down, he could see Tharn’s cock throbbing and hard between his legs. He reached forward, stroking his fingers softly along the length and Tharn hissed, length twitching against his touch.

“I want this.” Type told him, his voice quiet but in the silent room, his words seemed loud, echoing off of the walls. Tharn looked down at him, his lips parted and then he reached over, grabbing the condom. But before he could open it, Type took it from him, tearing it open himself to roll down over the other’s length. He could hear Tharn’s breathing hitch and Type glanced up at him, locking his eyes with Tharn’s until he was done. And then he moved back down against the pillows and watched as Tharn took the lube spread over himself.

Tharn moved in between his legs, pushing one up over his arm as he brought his member to Type’s entrance. Type clenched his fingers in the bedspread and then nodded, looking down as Tharn began to press inside of him.

The stretch burned somewhat, but in a way that caused Type to let out a long, low moan, one of his hands lifting to clench tight over Tharn’s shoulder. Tharn’s free hand rested on his waist, squeezing it comfortingly as he let out his own groan, continuing to push into Type’s tight body until he was more than halfway in.

“How’s that?” Tharn breathed out but Type could only moan his approval, the feel of being so full still such a new thing to him, but one he knew he could easily grow addicted to if he let himself. “I take that as good?” Tharn’s voice was heavy with his amusement and Type peeked his eyes open to look up at him. Though his voice was one of amusement, his face was stiff with control. Type could feel Tharn’s body shaking a little and he wondered if it was difficult for the other to stay so still as Type got used to his girth. 

“You…” he was going to say how good Tharn felt inside of him but hesitated at the sappy word choice before quickly changing direction. “Y-your cock stretches me so f-fucking good. I-I feel like my ass was made to have i-it--” Tharn shuddered above him and before he could even finish his sentence, Tharn was thrusting. 

Type clung to him. Tharn’s larger, more muscled frame covered his well and the feel of his muscles flexing against him as he thrust in and out of his body was enough to send Type absolutely crazy. He could feel the words falling from his own lips, curses and moans and gasps and it only seemed to spurn Tharn on, his own hands gripping at his hips tightly. 

“Type…” Tharn moaned out and then captured Type’s lips into another kiss before he could even get the chance to repay the moaning of his name by moaning out Tharn’s. One of Tharn’s hands slid along his waist and hips to grip at his length and he whined into the kiss, fingers digging into his shoulder. 

Tharn’s hand stroked him along and that mixed with being filled was just about too much for Type to handle. Tharn’s thumb swiped along his tip so expertly that it almost made Type jealous as it reminded him that Tharn had actual experience in this area. There was a distinct possessiveness to his feelings and he clenched himself around Tharn purposefully, determined that Tharn would know that it wouldn’t get any better than this with someone else. 

He wanted Tharn to be his. 

The other man shuddered on top of him, his body trembling and then stiffening, but he continued to thrust, messily but effective because in the next moment, Type’s entire body was on fire and he was crying out, spilling himself into Tharn’s hand and onto his stomach.

Tharn was heavy on top of him, but Type found that he didn’t mind, instead enjoying the weight and he clung even harder as Tharn tried to pull away. He wasn’t ready for Tharn to leave his body just yet, wanting to feel it for a bit longer.

Eventually he gave up trying to pull away at all and just lay there on top of Type. Type slid his hand down the expanse of his back, wiggling himself beneath him and smirking when he heard Tharn groan. 

“You…” Tharn let out a sharp breath, pulling his head up to look at him. “You are amazing.”

Type smiled, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “I know.” And then he pulled Tharn down for another kiss.


	37. Chapter 36

Tharn retched into the toilet, his knees aching from the minutes spent bent over it. There was a knock on the bathroom door and he groaned, sitting back on his heels, not yet flushing the toilet in case he need to lean over to hurl again. 

“Ai’Tharn? Are you okay?” Tharn made the sound of a grunt to Type’s question and when it felt like he wasn’t going to vomit anymore, he flushed the toilet and stood. He pulled the door open, giving Type a look before turning to the sink to wash off his face before grabbing his toothbrush. “Are you getting sick?” 

He could hear the worry in Type’s voice and sighed, squeezing some toothpaste onto the brush. “I think I must’ve eaten something bad this morning. I don’t know what.” But that probably wasn’t it at all, and he knew it, however he wasn’t about to tell Type that the guilt over what they had just done was overwhelming. 

He avoided eye contact and stuck the toothbrush in his mouth, quickly trying to get rid of the rancid taste that lingered on his tongue. 

“Mm, maybe.” Type didn’t sound so convinced, but Tharn wasn’t going to try to convince him. The other could believe what he wanted, and Tharn would just have to come to terms with what he was really feeling. 

Tharn was a lot of things. But he wasn’t someone who cheated on a person they were dating. At least not until today, at least not until Type.

A part of him wanted to feel bitter towards the athlete, but he knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Type’s fault. It was his for not having good self-control. It was his for ever asking Tar out as he tried to pretend that he was getting over Type, tried to pretend that was something that he even thought was possible at this point. Was it possible? He glanced quickly in the mirror to look at Type who leaned against the doorframe, dressed only in his shirt and boxers and then leaned over to spit into the sink, his heart racing.

Type was ridiculously cute. His hair was messed up and lips still a little bit swollen from their time spent kissing and it was difficult to stop the flashing of images in his head of Type beneath him, neck arched back and moans filling his ears. He’d been wanting to be with him for so long, but now that he had finally gotten it, it felt wrong. 

Cheating on Tar was not what he had wanted to do. Type being the ‘other man’ was not what he had wanted for him, for them, for their future possible relationship. Was that something that was even still in the cards at this point? Could he even have a relationship with Type knowing that their beginning was something so horrible and toxic?

Once a cheater, always a cheater.

Would he later on cheat on Type? Was this going to become a habit?

He rinsed his mouth out and his toothbrush off and put it away before moving passed Type to go back into his room and start changing the soiled bed spread. When the sheet got stuck on the other end of the bed, Type walked over and helped him pull it off wordlessly. Tharn took them and bundled them up, setting them in a corner to clean before going over to a closet to pull out fresh sheets and then replaced them.

Once he was finished with the bed and not a word had passed between the two in minutes, Tharn collapsed onto the mattress, his arm tossed over his eyes to block out the late afternoon sun that shone in through the windows. 

He had a headache. He wanted to sleep. 

The bed dipped next to him and Tharn took in a deep breath. Both he and Type still smelled of sex, both having fell to sleep for a short two hour nap after their time spent messing around, and then Tharn had woken up, sick to his stomach and rushing to the bathroom to vomit. He was pretty sure he was in there for a good ten minutes at least. 

“So… are we going to talk about this or do you just want to pretend that this didn’t happen?” Type asked and Tharn squeezed his eyes shut behind his arm, almost wanting to pretend that he couldn’t hear, but he knew there was no way that would be possible. “Cause I don’t really want to pretend it didn’t happen so we’re going to talk about it.”

He let out a heavy breath through his nose and murmured, “Then why even give me the option of not talking about it if we’re going to talk about it?”

“Because I wanted to see what you’d choose. Now I know.” Type sounded frustrated and annoyed. Tharn couldn’t really blame him. He was being a jerk. This wasn’t Type’s fault. The last thing he wanted was for Type to feel hurt, but that seemed to be what Tharn was best at doing lately. Hurting Type. Hurting Tar. Hurting both of them hurt himself as well. 

He pulled his arm off of his eyes and then sat up. “I cheated on Tar.”

He could hear Type sigh and looked over to see him frowning to himself. “It’s not like I said no. I didn’t even think of Tar.”

“Well, I did.” Tharn told him. “It’s not your job to think about Tar. It’s mine. And I did--I thought about him, and I still did it. And that’s what…” he shook his head, not even wanting to say it. “And that’s what’s so bad about it. I thought about Tar and didn’t care enough about him in the moment to stop myself.”

“You can’t help your feelings.” Type pointed out but Tharn only scoffed, shaking his head.

“No, but you can help your actions.” Type furrowed his brows at Tharn’s words. Tharn shifted, turning to face the other a little bit more. “I’m not like you, Type. I’m not someone who acts first, thinks later. Not usually. Not until I met you and all of a sudden I’m acting and not thinking at all and now I’ve cheated on someone that I used to really love. That’s not fair to him. Or to you.”

“What’s fair?” Type asks, raising his brows. “Is it fair that because you feel too fucking guilty, you think you’re stuck in something you don’t want to be in? What are you doing, Tharn? There’s something here. I’m not making it up. For awhile, I was starting to think that I was--but after what just happened? I know I’m not. I’m not making it up and I’m not seeing things and you--” Type pushed at his shoulder and then grabbed his shirt, jerking him forward.

Tharn stumbled, blinking and resting his hands on the bed besides Type’s hips, their faces inches away. Type’s eyes flickered all across his face and before Tharn could even do or say anything, he was kissing him. The kiss was rougher, almost all teeth and Type’s hands were clutching at the side of his face and the back of his neck, a possessive yearning emanating from him. 

He groaned slightly into the kiss, feeling himself kissing back for a moment before he grabbed at Type’s arms and pushed him away, his heart racing and the urge to vomit rising up within his chest all over again. “No. Type. No.” He told him firmly and Type huffed, tugging himself away to scoot further down the bed. “I need… I can’t do this. I have to talk to Tar.”

“And what are you going to tell him?”

He let out a breath and closed his eyes. The image of Tar was bright in his mind, but it wasn’t the image of a grown-up Tar. It was the image of a teenage Tar, and Tharn could hear the seventeen year old Tharn asking him, how could you do that to someone you love?

But the answer was simple. He didn’t love Tar. He loved the memories they had once shared together, but no longer was he in love with him. He’d stopped being that long ago. 

“The truth.” He said finally, his voice a mere whisper. “And until then… I can’t see you, Type. I can’t be around you. Just give me a few days and then I’ll… I’ll talk to Tar.” Tharn opened his eyes, peering at Type whose expression was frozen stiff, as if trying to mask what he was feeling, but he could see the frustration and hurt in his eyes. Type was an open book, no good at hiding his emotions and Tharn was too good at reading him. “I’m going to be busy this week because it’s our final rehearsals for the music festival, but then I’ll tell him. And then we…”

He stopped speaking. We. They. What would they do? What would they be? He couldn’t give an answer. He didn’t know. Even just the thought that he could possibly be happy with Type after doing what he had just done to Tar… it didn’t seem right, nor fair, but he couldn’t tell Type this. Type wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t get it. Type knew what he wanted and didn’t care if he didn’t ‘deserve’ it, but Tharn was different. After all this, he didn’t deserve Type.

He couldn’t be with Type. But he also couldn’t tell Type any of this. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He reiterated and then sat up straight. 

Type pursed his lips and didn’t look happy, but he nodded anyway, turning his head to meet his gaze. “You’ll talk to him. And then we’re going to talk.” Type said sternly, and Tharn knew there was no other option except to say ‘yes’.

So he did. “Then we’ll talk.” He promised. 

-

Tar wanted to surprise P’Tharn. He hadn’t gotten to see him (nor P’Tum) in a few days because the band had been busy practicing. They’d exchanged a few texts here and there, but most were short. He thought P’Tharn was probably exhausted, which was understandable, but today he wanted to surprise him. 

He knew how Tharn could get while stressed, forgetting to eat and so he had made some of his favorite lasagna and packed it away into lunch boxes for all the LBC members before heading to the rehearsal studio. 

He was easily let in, having gotten clearance thanks to the help of P’Tum and made his way up to the studio. He knocked on the frame of the open door and peaked inside, blinking when he only saw Lhong and Tae, the other three nowhere to be seen. 

“Sorry for interrupting…” The two men looked up and Tar gave them a small smile. “Is P’Tharn and P’Tum not around?” 

“Oh, we’re just taking a quick break. They’re off getting a drink or using the bathroom or something.” Tae answered from where he sat, tuning his bass. 

“Did you need something, Tar?” Lhong asked, his hand on his mic stand and Tar just smiled and shook his head, holding up the packed box lunches.

“I brought all of you some lunch. I just wanted to see P’Tharn--and P’Tum. So I thought I’d make you all something to eat and stop in. I’ll just wait for them, then? If you guys don’t mind.” Tar stepped inside when Tae shrugged, not seeming to care.

He placed the lunches on a table, figuring that he could ask where to put them when P’Tharn got back. “Oh, actually, P’Lhong, I was wanting a chance to talk to you.”

Lhong’s eyes went a little bit wide before his face fell into a normal expression. “To me?”

Tar smiled and nodded and waved him over. Lhong gave Tae a glance and then walked over, stopping in front of Tar, looking curious but as if he were trying to not be too curious. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I never got a chance to thank you.” Tar said, turning his head up towards the taller man. 

“Thank me?” Lhong blinked before giving a silent ‘oh’, and looking over at Tae again. He then turned back to Tar with a bright smile. “You’ve thanked me now, so there’s nothing else to say, right?” 

“It’s just--without your advice I probably never would’ve ended up going to France.” Tar continued, ignoring Lhong’s brush of his thanks, figuring he was just trying to be polite. “But I’m really glad you helped to talk me into it. The experience I had was so amazing and you were also right about breaking up with P’Tharn. It hurt, but it was the right thing for both him and I. We both got to experience so much. But now I’m back, so I think that it’s all worked out.”

Tar looked up at him and for a brief moment something crossed Lhong’s face that had Tar tilting his head, unable to quite figure out the expression but then Lhong smiled brightly, pressing his hand to his arm and giving it a slight squeeze. Lhong then dropped his arm back down by his side and shrugged.

“I’m glad that I could help. Your dream was to always go to France. It would’ve been horrible to see you pass up an opportunity and…” he pursed his lips a little. “As far as you and Tharn goes… I think it was for the best. And see… it’s worked out for you both anyway. But you really don’t need to mention it again, Tar. Seriously. I did it because I care about Tharn--and about you. We’ve known each other for so long, right?” 

“Right.” Tar stated, feeling slightly weird and then he shook his head, clearing it all from his mind. “Well, I’ve thanked you properly now, so I won’t mention it again. I promise.”

“What do you promise?” came P’Tum’s voice from behind him and Tar turned, giving his brother a huge grin.

“It’s a secret, P’Tum. I can’t tell you.” Tum looked at them both suspiciously but there was a good natured feel to it. He knew though if it had been Tharn, then it would’ve been a different sort of feel altogether. 

“Tar--what are you doing here?” Tar turned again to see P’Tharn, looking surprised and not altogether too happy. Tar tried not to feel a little hurt by that and instead stepped closer to his boyfriend, pointing over at the lunches.

“I made you all some food. Lasagna--your favorite.” 

Tharn looked over at them and then back at Tar. Tar was relieved when a small smile passed over his face. “I’m sure it’s delicious.” P’Tum rolled his eyes from next to them and went over to his guitar. “Uh… Tar, after rehearsal is done, do you think we can go somewhere together? Talk?” 

“Of course!” Tar said in excitement, nodding his head. “I’d love that.”

“Right.” Tharn cleared his throat. “Well, I’m going to get back to rehearsal. We have a lot of practice to do.”

“Of course. You guys can set that in the fridge or wherever. I’ll be back later, okay?” He yearned to lean forward and kiss him, but he settled for a quick hug, knowing that anybody could be watching, and then he turned and walked out of the room, excited to get to see Tharn later and spend some time with him. 

-

Type buried himself beneath the pillows on his bed. He was hoping to suffocate himself, but it wasn’t really working considering there was no actual weight on top of him. All it was doing was making him hotter than he already had been and he huffed, punching the pillows and blanket off of him and sitting up. 

Stupid, fucking Tharn and his stupid fucking complex about being kind or something.

Well, he liked Tharn how he was. And that included kind Tharn, so it wasn’t that he was really angry at it, it was just frustrating. After all that, just letting go and letting things happen, having sex with him (again), he felt he was no closer to actually having Tharn. He supposed he understood, but what was he supposed to do with this? Just wait and hope that Tharn would want to be with him after he talks to Tar?

He didn’t even know if that talk included a break-up (he hoped it did). If it didn’t include one then Type really would’ve been kicked to the side-lines, after all of this struggling with himself and finally coming to terms that yes, he wants to be with a man (really fucking bad), could he handle being pushed aside?

Where was his friends to talk to when he needed them?

And amongst all of this, he was still kicked off the team. Suspension, he had been told, but he knew that was really just a nice way of being basically fired. He’d gotten to kick the shit out of Aksornpan, but was it really worth it?

At the memory of the feeling of Aksornpan’s hands touching him, Type shuddered. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t worth it. Nobody would have believed him either way. The end result would either be continuing to stay on the same team as that guy, or be kicked off and here in bed moping about a boy.

He felt like a thirteen year old girl.

And if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a thirteen year old girl. He huffed and grabbed his phone, pulling up Techno’s number and calling before holding it up to his ear. 

“Hello?” Greeted an unfamiliar voice and Type narrowed his eyes, pulling his phone away to check and make sure he had called Techno. He had. “Hello?” The voice repeated, sounding a little more firm.

“Uh… I’m calling Techno. Who is this?” Type asked.

“Oh, P’No?” The male voice hummed on the other end. “He’s in the bathroom. He’s not feeling well. May I take a message?” 

“No, why are you answering No’s phone? Who are you?” There was a tingling of suspicion at the back of his mind, but he brushed it off. There was no way that was possible. 

“I’m P’No’s friend. Who are you?” 

“No’s friend.” Type shot back and there was a small laugh from the other side of the line. 

“Well, he’s busy. Call back. Or don’t.” Type opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the other person hung up and he was left staring at his phone in shock.

What the fuck? He shook his head and quickly sent him a message.

Type  
No, who the fuck answered your phone?  
Call me back when you can.

He tossed his phone in front of himself and groaned. He was sure Techno was okay, but now who was he supposed to talk to? The only other person he could really be himself with wasn’t even talking to him.

Type bit on his lip and looked at his phone again. Well, he could… there was no harm in trying. If he didn’t pick up the phone when he called, then there was nothing Type could do and maybe that would be a sign it was time to move on. Some friendships didn’t last forever. Some weren’t meant to. 

He pressed dial on Kom’s number and held his breath.

He picked up.

“Type,” sighed his friend on the other end of the call. “Why are you calling?” 

“To apologize.” He said, crossing his legs beneath himself. “I don’t really know what I did, but whatever I did that made you so angry with me… I’m sorry for it.”

There was a pause for a moment. “How can you apologize for something when you don’t even know what you did wrong?”

“How am I supposed to know what I did wrong if you won’t talk to me about it and tell me?” He replied, listening to the sharp intake of breath from Kom.

“It’s not hard to figure out what you did wrong, Type.” 

Type wracked his brain, but there was only one thing he could come up with. “Was it the slurs? Was it because of what I said that day?” A thought began forming in his head and he looked down at his blanket, picking at a loose string. “Kom… I’m sorry if I hurt you because of what I said.”

“Why would you hurt me because of that?” He asked, his voice stiff.

Type bit down on his lip and closed his eyes. “Are you gay?” There was no answer from the other end of the line and for a moment he thought that Kom had hung up before he heard his friend take in a shaky breath and Type all of a sudden felt wracked with guilt, a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “God--Kom, why didn’t you ever tell me? I would never have said any of those things if--”

“If you knew that your best friend is a fag?” Kom’s harsh reply shot through the phone and Type took in a breath. “So it only matters because I’m your friend right? If I was nobody, then it wouldn’t mean a damn thing what my feelings are, you’d say them anyway. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“That’s not…” but his voice trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say to it and he could feel his temper rising, but he knew that’d be a mistake. He had no right to be angry. If he got angry here, then he’d lose his friend for good. “I know what I said is wrong. I knew it when I was saying it, but I wasn’t saying it about you, Kom.”

“Then what were you saying it about, huh, Type? If not me and people like me, then who?”

“I was saying it about me!” Type panted after he said it, the effort it took to get the words out too great and he groaned, leaning forward to lean his head against his bedspread. “I was saying it about me. Okay? I’m gay. I’m gay as fuck and I’ve known for awhile, but I just… I tried to be in denial and in… I don’t know, control over myself.” he let out a laugh, sarcastic and non-humorous. “As if that would work. And when it wasn’t working, I resorted back into my old, homophobic ways and I’m sorry. But I never would’ve said any of that stuff about you, Kom. I don’t believe any of it, you know? I just--sometimes my mouth does these things and I can’t control it, you know how I am.”

“Yeah, I do know how you are. And I had hoped that you would get over that. I wish you would’ve told me, Type. You know I never would’ve thought badly of you--”

“I didn’t know that though.” Type argued, sitting back up. “You never called me out on my shit or told me to stop saying that stuff so I didn’t think it mattered to you. How was I supposed to know that you didn’t agree with that, let alone that you’re into guys and wouldn’t turn on me?”

“I… I guess that’s true.” Kom said lightly and then he sighed. “I guess both of us are kind of at fault. You know I’ve… I’ve missed you, Type. I’ve missed talking to you.”

“I’ve missed talking to you too.” He told him earnestly. “And I really need a friend to talk to right now.”


	38. Chapter 37

“And now I’m afraid that he’s going to break up with him and still decide that he can’t be with me because he cheated with me. I mean… people make mistakes, right? Does that mean he should punish himself forever?” Type sighed out as he finished telling the whole long tale of him and Tharn to his friend Kom over the phone. He wasn’t sure how long it had taken, but he’d give him the long, full version, and his phone was warm against his ear, so he figured it had taken awhile.

There was silence on the other end and Type figured that Kom was trying to process everything that he had just said. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. “Kom…” came his muffled voice. “What do I do now?”

There was a long sigh from Kom. “You really have yourself in a situation, huh?” He asked and Type banged his head against his bed, thankful that the surface was soft. “Okay, well, it seems to me that your best option is to just… say that. Say exactly that to him. If he really has feelings for you. But, you know Type, you can’t force someone to be with you either and if he says that he doesn’t want to then…”

Type glared at the blanket. “Asshole, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side and, I’m telling you, if he says he doesn’t want to date you, you’re going to have to accept that. You wouldn’t want to be pushed, would you? And I don’t know. Maybe it would even be better for you both to start over again, fresh slate. Starting a relationship because he cheated on his current boyfriend with you… does that really sound like a great idea?”

He shifted and pushed himself onto his back, staring up at his ceiling as he thought. “I guess not but… it’s been so long, it feels like. I don’t want to just sit by and let time pass anymore, Kom. I’m tired. It’s taken me so long to be able to get to this point. Why should I let him punish both of us just because he feels guilty?” 

“Only you can answer these questions, Type. You wanted my advice, that’s my advice. It’s up to you whether or not you take it.”

Type fell silent as he thought about those words. He could see why Kom said what he did, and he could see why Tharn wouldn’t want to begin a relationship in this way, but was it bad of Type that he just… didn’t care? Maybe he would if he were on the other end of things, but all he saw was Tharn. All he wanted was Tharn and he knew that Tharn wanted him. He had felt it in his touches and in his kisses. He had felt it in the way they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, Type curled up against his chest. Tharn had stroked his back and kissed his head and held him so tightly that Type felt as if he was wrapped in the world’s safest blanket.

And maybe Tharn didn’t remember any of this through the haze of guilt he had felt after he’d woken up, but Type remembered well. It was something that he wanted to experience more of, something he wanted to have each day and every night. He wanted to fall asleep to Tharn holding him and wake up to the sight of him beside him. This was what Type wanted. 

This was what Tharn wanted and Type knew that for him.

“Listen, Type, I have to get to work. But uh… we should really talk some more and catch up, okay?” Kom suggested lightly.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe I’ll come down there soon. It’s not like I have anything going on any longer.” He sighed out, his chest aching at the thought of his suspension but he shook it off quickly. “I won’t hold you. You get to work. At least one of us still has a job.”

“Well, you still have your sponsorships, so you’re still making more than me.”

“Mm, for now.” He hummed, sighing a little because he was positive that once they got wind of his suspension, he could kiss those sponsorships goodbye. “I’ll talk to you later.” He said and then the two of them hung up, Type grabbing hold of a pillow to hug to his chest.

He yearned to see Tharn. It had been days. He hadn’t even contacted him. Tharn had asked to be given at least the week until the music festival. Type figured he at least owed him that. But it still wasn’t easy lying in bed alone, when all he wanted to be doing was lying in bed with Tharn.

-

Tharn sat in front of Tar, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say and how he was supposed to say it. He couldn’t put this off any longer. He’d done so long enough. He needed to get this done and over with, like ripping off a bandaid. But this was going to hurt much worse than a bandaid. Especially for Tar. 

Tar was none the wiser, sipping at his drink and smiling, talking about something or other that Tharn could barely even pretend to be paying attention to. He tried, but his mind wandered quickly as he thought about how he was about to break this boy’s heart. Someone whose heart didn’t deserve to be stomped on like this, someone he had once loved so much. He could feel the anger at himself for doing this, a part of him just wanting to stay with Tar and make it up to him. But that wasn’t fair. That would hurt Type.

And if there was one thing that Tharn couldn’t do, it was continue hurting Type. 

So he had to say it. He had to find a way to string the words together and get it over with. That was the only way he was going to be able to do this. Better say it now than for someone to tell Tar, not that there was anyone to tell him. Only Type knew of Tharn’s guilt, and he highly doubted Type was the sort of person to do that to him. 

But why was this so hard? Why did nothing want to come out? Why did--

“I cheated on you.” He spat out suddenly, the world seeming to calm to a halt as Tharn’s words hit Tar and then Tharn was closing his eyes, not able to bring himself to look at him, hardly able to believe that he had literally just said it like that. But he had said it, and now he was going to stick with it. “I… I cheated on you. Last week. I’m sorry.”

There was a long period of silence in which Tharn slowly opened his eyes and looked across the table to see Tar’s eyes wide and his hands shaking around his mug. Tar, seeming to realize this, pulled his hands away and placed them down in his lap. 

“I--what?” Was all Tar said and Tharn let out a slow, shaking breath. 

“I made a mistake when I asked you out. I have feelings for someone and I thought… being with you would help me get over them, but it didn’t and I cheated on you and you deserve so much better than me, Tar.” 

“You’re joking.” Tar said, but it came out sounding more like a hopeful question than a joke and Tharn shook his head, staring down at the table in front of him, ashamed of himself and his actions and wishing that he could take it all back. “I--Tharn, but…” Tar seemed to be at a loss for words and Tharn couldn’t exactly blame him as he himself was also at a loss as to what to say.

How could he explain himself? Make sure Tar knew it wasn’t him? It was Tharn’s own fault for ever thinking he could force his emotions in one direction or another. He had long been over Tar. He had just tried to convince himself that it was possible to get over Type and he was beginning to believe that it wasn’t.

Tharn was already falling in love with him. 

“I’m sorry I did this to you, Tar. I had to… be honest with you. You deserve better. You deserve someone who actually loves you and feels for you like you deserve. Someone who looks only at you. It’s not me. Maybe it could’ve been, but… it’s not.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to avoid looking at Tar’s frozen face, the way his breath was quickening and eyes were starting to sparkle with unshed tears that welled up in his ducts. 

He needed to see it. He deserved to see how much he had hurt him, how much he’d broken him. 

“You were… never the sort of person to do this, P’Tharn.” Tar said, his voice still sounding strong and Tharn couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of the man he’d grown into. If this had been six years ago, Tar would’ve broken down by now. France had been good to him. “Why did you ask me out if you were just going to…” 

“I was trying to convince myself of something.” He told him honestly, figuring that Tar deserved to know the truth. “I was trying to convince myself that I could move on from someone and then you were here and all of those… memories came flooding back and I thought I did still have feelings for you, but I was just… remembering. And I’m sorry. Maybe I’ve become a worse person over the years. It’s possible.” 

“I didn’t mistake my feelings for you, P’Tharn.” Tar reached across the table, grasping at his hand. “I still love you.”

Tharn took in a deep breath, knowing his next words were going to hurt. “I don’t love you, Tar. Not like that.”

Tar flinched back, the hand squeezing around Tharn’s for a brief moment before he pulled away. He closed his eyes, clenching them shut and Tharn saw a tear leak out and then another before Tar was furiously wiping at his face and gathering up his things in a rush. For a brief moment, Tharn thought about asking if he needed a ride home before realizing that would be a bad idea and staying silent. 

“Well, at least you told me before it was too late.” Tar took in a shaky breath and pulled his bag over his shoulder, giving him a sad look and Tharn wished that Tar would be angry, wished that he’d hit him or yell or something, because anything would be better than the heartbroken look that he was receiving. But that just wasn’t Tar. 

Tar peered at him for a moment, looking as if he wanted to say something else, but then he thought better of it and left the coffee shop. Tharn let out a long breath and lowered his head into his hands, feeling suddenly exhausted.

Who knew breaking someone’s heart could be so tiring?

-

Tum was worried. It was going on 9pm and Tar still wasn’t home. He’d left with Tharn after practice hours ago and Tum had told him to call if he’d be staying out late, and normally Tar did. Normally he didn’t have to worry, but there was no sign or word from Tar and Tum was worried for his brother. 

He hated that Tar had gone back to Tharn. Perhaps a lot of it was his jealousy, but he knew how to read the other man. Tharn was obsessed with that soccer player, had been for awhile. Enamored with watching his plays or talking to him, texting him. Tum wasn’t an idiot. He knew the entire thing was just some sort of sponsorship, despite what he had told Tar. But he also knew that there had been real feelings there. So the knowledge that Tharn had asked Tar out had not been one that he’d taken very kindly to.

He’d told Tar that it was a bad idea, that Tharn was in love with someone, but Tar hadn’t listened, and now Tum had the worst feeling.

Maybe it was just jealousy, he thought as he looked at a picture of him and Tar that hung on the wall and felt slightly ill and tired. Holding back his feelings for his step-brother for so long, keeping them hidden away like some filthy secret, was actually fairly exhausting. But he knew he couldn’t say anything. He knew people wouldn’t think well on it, and maybe they would be right to, but how was he supposed to help that? What was he supposed to do about that? 

A person can’t help to whom they fall in love and Tum had been in love with Tar for practically as long as he could remember.

He had never really thought of Tar as his brother, not from the day they had met and not even now. Tar was more than that. He was special and different. He was someone Tum cared about deeply. He wanted to take care of him and give him only the best, but he also knew that Tar only saw him as his brother. That’s okay. As long as Tum could be there for him, he was happy. 

The sliding door slid open behind him and Tum quickly turned, eyes widening when he saw Tar step inside quietly, pulling off his shoes, almost as if he were pretending he couldn’t be seen. 

“Tar!” Tum rushed forward, taking his brother by his arms and pulling him into a tight hug. “I was worried! You weren’t answering your phone or your messages--are you okay, Tar? Na, Tar?” 

The boy in his embrace was still and quiet, not answering his questions and he pulled back a little, pressing his fingers beneath the younger’s chin to tilt his head up. There were red rings around his eyes and they were a bit swollen and Tum took in a sharp breath, feeling himself start to shake with anger. 

“Tar, have you been crying? Who hurt you? Was it Tharn? What did he do?” He gripped Tar a bit more tightly, loosening only when he saw his younger brother give a small flinch. Tar raised his hands and gently pushed Tum’s arms away from holding him and then, without a word, Tar headed towards the stairs and walked up.

Tum blinked, his eyes following, but he didn’t wait for more than a moment before he hurried after him, grasping at Tar’s hand. “Tar… please, just talk to me. P’Tum can help okay? Let your brother help.”

“You can’t help, P’Tum.” Tar’s voice was quiet but the words were still audible, and then he tugged his hand away and finished walking up the stairs, heading into his room.

He stared at the closed door before sighing, pressing his hand and head against the frame, not yet willing to give up. “Tar… please come out. I only want to help, okay?” His voice was desperate with his need to help. He repeated himself, trying the handle but the door was locked from the inside and he closed his eyes. 

“I know it can be hard, but I’m your brother okay? I love you. I care about you. Please just--” but his words came to a halt when, from inside the room, he heard a small cry. Tum took in a sharp breath and jiggled the doorknob, as if it would suddenly be unlocked. “Tar? Tar, let me in. Let me help you. I can help. I can--”

And then the door swung open and before him stood Tar, tears streaming down his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh... is Tar going to tell Tum? If he does, what is Tum going to do???


	39. Chapter 38

Tharn watched as Lhong ran about, trying to direct the stagehands to where everything needed to go and how it needed to be set up. It was the day before the festival and Tharn was letting the vocalist take charge. He was too distracted, had too many things on his mind to think about, and though he knew he should be thinking about the performance that they’d be putting on in just about twenty-four hours, it was the last thing on his mind.

In his mind, the only thing he saw was a Tar with eyes full of tears, crying and breaking down, so fragile, and his heart ached as he hated himself for what he had done. How could he have done that to him? He had used to love him? Was he really so weak that he couldn’t control himself for a few days in order to just break up with him? It would’ve hurt no matter what, but at least he wouldn’t have had to told Tar that he had cheated on him. They had barely been back together for a week before Tharn’s own selfishness and feelings for Type had overtaken his better judgement.

And he didn’t even want to think about Type. He couldn’t think about Type without feeling sick about the whole thing and that wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair that because he was so weak-willed and had given into his emotions and lust for Type, that now whenever he thought of the man, he thought of a heartbroken Tar.

Tharn just couldn’t win. But maybe that was what he had deserved, after everything that he had done. Tharn had always thought himself to be a good person. Had he been wrong all of this time? How could someone who cheated on someone they had once sworn to love and protect be a good person?

He was beginning to question everything that he knew about himself. 

“You’d think stage-hands wouldn’t need so much direction.” Lhong stated as he sighed and plopped down next to Tharn on a box just off the stage. “They should be done soon then, we can actually practice.” Lhong turned and looked around. “Where the hell is Tum?”

“Huh?” Tharn blinked and turned his head towards his friend. “Tum?” He also glanced around. He could see Tae and Song talking to a few workers and messing about, but there was no sign of Tum. “He probably got stuck in traffic.” 

But even as he said that, there was a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. Tar would’ve gone home in tears, most likely. Tum would’ve seen him. There’s no way that there wouldn’t be questions. Would he show up? Had Tar told Tum what he had done? It didn’t really seem like a Tar thing to do, but then he had never cheated on Tar before. He hadn’t known Tar for six years. How could he know what a Tar thing to do any longer would be? 

“Well, hopefully that traffic clears up soon. We’re going to have to start without him if he doesn’t show up in the next twenty minutes.” Lhong breathed out, sounding annoyed and Tharn looked over, raising his arm to place on his friend’s shoulder. Lhong automatically seemed to relax beneath his touch and gave him a smile.

Tharn dropped his hand and let out his own sigh. He tilted his head back and looked up to where the sun was just starting to sink beneath the horizon. There was an ominous feeling about the atmosphere, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t making it up.

“Ai’Tharn, is something wrong?” Lhong questioned softly from beside him and Tharn pursed his lips, wishing that he could even begin to describe everything that was wrong. He knew he could probably use advice, but Tharn didn’t want to see the look his friend gave him when he heard that he had actually cheated on someone. Would Lhong be disappointed in him? Upset? Think differently of him? Lhong was his best friend, had been for so long.

He couldn’t bare the thought of disappointing him. So he shook his head, put a smile on his face, and decided to keep it to himself. “Just tired. We’ve been practicing a lot lately.”

An understanding look came across Lhong’s face and he nodded, slinging his arm completely around Tharn’s shoulders and pulling him in a little. “After this is all over, we should go for a drink. Hang out. We haven’t gotten to do anything by ourselves for weeks. You’ve been so busy… with. Things.” A look came over Lhong’s face and Tharn suddenly felt worse.

He was right. Tharn had been so preoccupied with the sponsorship with Type (and just getting to know Type in general) and then with Tar, that he had hardly had any time for Lhong at all. And how was that fair? Was he really also the sort of boyfriend who ditched their best friends for their lover? Tharn didn’t want to be that sort of person.

He wanted a best friend and a lover and he wanted to treat them both as they so deserved. Not ditching one for the other and then proceeding to cheat on his lover anyway.

Really, what sort of person was Tharn becoming.

“Aa… I’m sorry, Lhong. You’re right. We’ve been busy lately. After the festival and everything is over, we’ll hang out. Catch up. I don’t even know what’s going on in your life right now… I’m sorry.” He told him honestly, leaning his head on his shoulder briefly. 

Lhong’s arm tightened a little bit around him. “Nothing much really goes on with me ever, Tharn. I’m a boring fella.” 

Tharn let out a small laugh. “You’re not boring.” He argued playfully, giving his friend a nudge. He then groaned and stretched out his legs, feeling as if he had been sitting too long. “Might as well help them out. Don’t really need them messing up my set.” He says and stands, but before he could even take a few steps, he feels a pressure on his back and then he’s stumbling forward, only managing to catch himself from falling by grabbing hold of some boxes. 

“Hey!” Lhong shouted and Tharn turned to see Tum, his face stiff and eyes glaring with anger. Lhong pressed his hand into Tum’s chest, trying to push him back, but Tum smacked it aside. “What the fuck, Tum? What are you doing?”

“Why don’t you ask him what he’s doing, huh?” Tum pointed at Tharn who felt frozen, his eyes wide and at a loss as to what to say or do in this situation. He knew exactly what this was about. Tar had told him. “You know, I warned him. I warned him that it wasn’t going to work out, but he didn’t listen to me. I still didn’t think you were the sort of person to do that though, you know that Tharn? I was willing to give you the benefit of the fucking doubt.” Tum lunged forward, pushing his his hands against Tharn’s chest again, sending him knocking back into the boxes, a few of them tumbling over.

Tharn groaned as his ankle was nicked by something, but he didn’t step forward. He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t deserve to. Lhong seemed pissed, still trying to push Tum away and Tharn could see the security in the background looking ready to intervene, yet unsure because Tum was a member of the rehearsing band.

“Tum… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to Tar, but it’s why I told him. I couldn’t be with him knowing I did that to him.” 

“You’re  _ sorry _ ?” Tum spat out, pushing Lhong completely aside and stepping up to Tharn, grasping at the collar of his shirt and pulling him forward until Tharn could feel Tum’s breath on his face. “Do you know how hard it was to get it out of Tar what had happened? He comes home late, after he went out with you. He’s crying and shaking and he won’t talk to me. He refused to tell me. He said that it wasn’t a big deal, nothing was wrong, but clearly something was. He’s my little brother. He’s my--” He bit back his words, seeming to realize he was about to say something that he was going to regret in this situation.

“It took me hours of begging him to tell me what was wrong. And after I got him to say it, do you know what he did? He asked me to not be angry at you. He asked me to not worry about it because he didn’t want the band to be in jeopardy.” These words seemed to anger Tum more than anything else and his hand tightened around Tharn’s collar, who didn’t fight back. He didn’t deserve to fight back. “But you know what? I care more about Tar than I do about this stupid band. And how  _ fucking dare you _ , Tharn? How dare you break my brother’s heart. Someone like Tar--who is so wholesome and good. Better than you, better than me.”

He pulled Tharn closer before pushing him away again. Tharn felt his back hit against the wall and Tum stared at him as if he were going to hit him, but he instead just glared, giving a rueful grin that lacked all humor and goodness. “But I hope you and that asshole athlete are very happy together. You deserve each other. And screw you. Screw this band. I’m done.”

Tharn’s eyes widened as Tum then turned and began to walk away. He only then noticed how everyone in the vicinity was silent and watching, a few phones pulled out of pockets and filming the exchange. “Wait, you can’t just leave! Tum--this is our band. This is LBC, this--”

“I don’t fucking care, Tharn!” Tum turned back, raising his hands up and looking around. “This? I’m fucking sick of this. I’m sick of you and sick of Lhong and sick of them and sick of every single person or thing that this world creates. A bunch of assholes who feel like they’re so much better than everyone else. Have fun with your festival tomorrow. I won’t be there.” And then he stopped speaking and stormed away.

Then there was only an awkward silence that filled the area and Tharn couldn’t help but let a thought cross his mind.

Was this the beginning of the end of LBC?

-

**lbcgirl99**   
[9:12pm]   
_ did u guys see the video ???  _

**boykirigun** **  
** [9:13pm]   
_ what vid? _

**lbcgirl99**

[9:13pm]   
_ youtube.com/watch?v=HSib890f _

_ i can’t believe it… _

**tharn♡ lhong** **  
** [9:16pm]   
_ oi... this doesn’t look so good… _ _   
_ _ ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ _

**lbcgirl99** **  
** [9:17pm]   
_ what if lbc breaks up?? What do we do :(  _

**boykirigun** **  
** [9:19pm]   
_ hey hey… there’s no need to be dramatic _ _   
_ _ im sure its going to be fine _ _   
_ _ they’re not going to break up over smth like this _

**tharn♡ lhong** **  
** [9:21pm]   
_ i blame p’type  _ _   
_ _ (‡▼益▼) _

**lbcgirl99** **  
** [9:22pm]   
_ how is this p’type’s fault? _

**tharn♡ lhong** **  
** [9:23pm]   
_ u heard p’tum mention an athlete _ _   
_ _ it has to be his fault _

_ if p’type weren’t aroudn there wuldnt be any issues!!! _

_ then my p’tharn and p’lhong could be happy together!!! _

_ and p’tum wouldn’t be angry _

_ (灬♥ω♥灬) _

**boykirigun** **  
** [9:26pm]   
_ ur crazy _

-

[+562, -138] so apparently p’tharn was dating p’tum’s brother!! And he cheated on him with p’type!! And that’s why p’tum is so angry because p’tharn hurt his brother. one of my friends was a stage-hand and that’s what they were talking about

^^[+274, -72] that sounds fake as hell. Like a y girl fanfiction

^^[+166, -58] and we’re supposed to just… believe this? Do you have any proof?

^^^^[+101, -82] i mean u can kinda hear them talking about it in the video anyway so what other proof do you need?

[+139, -72] do u think lbc is going to break up?

^^[+64, -157] i hope so they suck

^^[+111, -23] keep your shitty opinions to yourself 

-

**BREAKING:** _ lead guitarist Tum of popular rock band LBC dissolves contract and leaves the group amidst fight with drummer Tharn! _

After a video was posted online of the two members of LBC fighting during a rehearsal for last weekend’s music festival, we have gotten word that Tum, the guitarist, has officially withdrawn from the group. According to rumors, the two were fighting over Tum’s, the guitarist’s, brother whom the drummer Tharn used to date in the past and had just reconnected with. But all of this during a time when Tharn is very heavily rumored to be dating Type Thiwat of Bangkok United. Thiwat had actually just been suspended from the team due to undisclosed circumstances, however…

_ - _

Type turned off the television and tossed the remote onto the couch next to him, not wanting to hear any more of what the news had to say of this situation. It’d been days since the festival, days since the video of Tum and Tharn’s fight had been posted online by workers and Type had been trying to get in contact with him ever since, but he wasn’t answering. He wasn’t picking up.

And Type was beginning to lose his patience. 

The whole world at the time seemed to be against the two of them, but Type honestly couldn’t give a fuck what any of them had to say. All he cared about was how Tharn was doing dealing with all of this, but the other man wasn’t letting him check in. He’d even called up P’San in order to ask, but he had no answers for him either. Apparently, Tharn wasn’t talking to anyone.

He groaned and leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He really had only one option left. He had promised Tharn some time, but that was before this. That was before this monster of a mess had exploded in their faces. Type found himself caring little for outside people’s perspectives, but he did care about what Tharn was feeling.

It was time to take that final option.

With a deep breath, Type stood and grabbed his keys. It was time to go talk to Tharn face to face.  _   
  
_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you called it. I mean... it was fairly apparent what Tum would do should he find out. Ahh... where does LBC go from here?


	40. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the story is officially over 100,000 words... whew!

The air was crisp and smelled of an oncoming storm. Gray clouds rolled across the horizon and everywhere he could see cars rushing to get home. Tharn, on the other hand, wasn’t in any hurry to head back inside. Instead, he continued to sit on his balcony, enjoying the feel of the wind blowing against his skin, the humidity increasing with every passing minute. 

It was a good way to clear his mind, something of which he had needed the last few days. He’d turned his phone off. He hadn’t put on the news. He’d contacted nobody except his family to tell them he’d be unreachable for a bit. He knew people would worry, he knew eventually they’d come knocking on his door to make sure he was alive, but Tharn just didn’t want to deal with it for the moment. Better to push it off until he had at least gotten a chance to think through the situation a bit.

Tum had left the band. They’d been called into the office the day after the festival and Tum had announced he was withdrawing. He still had to go through some steps to dissolve his contract, but nobody argued with him, not wanting to force him to stay somewhere when it would most likely only cause more fights to break out anyway. It was better this way.

But Tharn still felt like it was his fault. 

If he hadn’t cheated on Tar, if he had never asked him out in the first place, then LBC would still be whole. He’d already put a huge crack in their careers, all because Tharn had thought with the wrong head, and now he could do nothing but sit here and wish he could take it all back.

Except he also didn’t, because when he closed his eyes, he could see Type and he felt warm. The memories would have to get him through, because now with all of this, he couldn’t see how the two of them could ever have a good relationship. How could a person start a relationship because of the end of another? 

Down below, a familiar car pulled into the parking lot and Tharn sighed, wishing that he could hide away, but perhaps he should face this. He owed it to Type to be honest with him. He’d done enough running. 

Just then as Type climbed out of his car and Tharn stood from his seat on the balcony, rain began to fall. First the drops were small and light and then they grew in size, pounding against the cement below and he caught a glimpse of Type running for the entrance. He’d be soaked by the time he made it to the door and Tharn quickly ducked inside, closing and locking his balcony door.

He went into the hall closet and pulled out a fresh towel, setting it on a table as he waited for Type to make his way upstairs. As he waited, he went over in his mind what he wanted to say, how he thought the conversation should go, and then sighed because he knew that it wasn’t going to go nearly as smoothly as he wished it was. Type was a firecracker. It was one of the many reasons that Tharn loved him so much.

Tharn halted in his movement at that thought. Loved him. It was one of the many reasons that Tharn loved him so much. 

He shook his head. Nope. He wasn’t going there. He wasn’t thinking that. He liked Type, sure. He was falling for him, he knew this. But love him? Wasn’t it too soon? 

But Tharn had always been a hopeless romantic.

There was a knock on the door and he took a moment to steady himself and let out a breath before he grabbed the towel he’d placed on the table, and went to answer the door. Type stood in front of him, hair dripping from the rain, his t-shirt soaked through and Tharn stared for a moment before catching himself and handing him the towel, gesturing him to come inside.

Type mouthed a thank you and took the towel, starting to dry off his hair as he slid off his shoes. 

“I can get you something to wear and you can take a shower, Type. We can talk after that.” Tharn told him, but before he could go to his room to get Type a change of clothes, he was interrupted.

“No. I want to talk first. We need to talk, Tharn.” He really should’ve known that it wasn’t going to be that easy to buy himself a little bit more time and so he turned, putting his hands into the pockets of his pants and looked at Type who still had the towel resting atop his head, collecting all of the rain. 

“You’ll get sick.” he tries to point out, but Type just gives him this look that basically told Tharn to shut the hell up so he snapped his mouth shut and decided to listen. Type was a bit frightening when he wanted to be. 

“I was trying to give you time. You asked for time, and since I get the situation we’re in is pretty… hard, I was okay with that. But it’s been almost a week since all this shit blew up and you’re not returning any of my messages. I can’t read your mind, Tharn. You have to speak to me so I know what the hell is going on. What we’re doing, what we--”

“We’re doing?” Tharn interrupts and Type just stares at him, his fingers clutching at the end of the towel over his head. “What we’re doing is nothing, Type. And that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

They both fell silent and thunder roared outside. The sound of the rain pattered harshly against the building and when Tharn tore his eyes away from Type to look out the window, he could barely see anything at all, just gray and rain. 

He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple, the sure signs of a headache pounding behind his eyes and when he opened them again, Type was still staring at him. His face was stiff, but eyes still wide as his nostrils flared. In hurt or anger, Tharn didn’t know, but it was likely a mix of both going off the way his fist was turning white from how hard he was clutching at one end of the towel. 

And then Type dragged the towel from his head and tossed it at him. The wet cloth smacked him in the chest and he breathed out sharply through his own nose. “Really, Type? Mature.” 

“About as fucking mature as spending all of this time running away from me only to fuck me and then decide--yeah, that’s enough. Don’t really want him anymore. What the hell, Tharn?” Type’s voice was pissed, but there was a look of hurt that was trying to fight it’s way onto his face and Tharn rubbed his fingers through his hair, practically pulling at it in frustration.

“I’m not… running away, Type.” He dropped his arm back down by his side and took a small step closer. “But look--look at the situation we’re in. Look at what I’ve done! How can I be with you like this? When the start of our relationship is the ending of mine and Tar’s? Do you expect me to be able to move on from this with a clear conscience?” 

Type scoffed, rolling his eyes harder than Tharn had ever seen before. “What relationship? You barely dated him for a week, Tharn.”

“It doesn’t matter if it was a week or a year, Type! Me and him, we still had a history and I still cheated on him with you!” Tharn groaned and turned, walking a few steps away, but before he could really get any further, he felt a hand on his arm, jerking him back around to face Type. 

“So is that what this is? You can’t be with me because you feel guilty when you look at me? Or are you mad at me? Mad at me and blame me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” Tharn denied quickly, going to grab Type’s hand but he was already pulling away. “I’m mad at me. I’m mad because of what I did and every time I look at you, I feel guilty towards him and towards you. It’s not fair to either one of you.”

“God, Tharn… It takes two to tango. We both made the decision that we did, you don’t have to feel guilty alone, but you also shouldn’t punish yourself because you made a mistake and slipped up.” Type pointed out, but Tharn just continued to shake his head.

“It’s not just a mistake, Type. I cheated. I betrayed him. What if I do the same thing to you, huh?”

Type raised his brows and stared at him. “Then I’d fucking kick your ass. Do you think you’d do the same thing to me?”

Tharn stared at him, trying to imagine it. He tried to imagine being with Type, loving Type, caring for him, and then he tried to imagine if Tar or if someone else came around, flirting with him. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to imagine it, but his brain wouldn’t allow for the image of him ever possibly cheating on Type to enter into his mind. But this didn’t prove a damn thing. 

“It doesn’t matter if I wouldn’t do it to you or not, look at what I’ve already done to you, Type.”

“What have you done to me, huh? Tell me!” Type leaned forward, giving him a small push against his shoulders, not enough to hurt, but enough to cause him to take a small step back.

“Fuck Type!” he yelled out, grabbing Type’s hands and gripping them, staring straight at him. “Think for a moment! Do you know how long I’ve wanted to meet you? My brother dragged me to a game last summer and I saw you there, on the field and I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He could tell Type was taken aback by this, physically moving backwards, his eyes widening. “I wanted to know you. And when I saw you at that party, I knew I had my chance.” 

Tharn continued. “So I approached you and I flirted with you and then I kissed you without asking if it was okay, knowing where we were and knowing that people could see, but I didn’t even care. I didn’t care who saw or what would happen, I just knew that I wanted to kiss you, so I kissed you. But that was so…” he stepped away now, backing up further. “That was selfish of me, Type! It’s one thing to put my own career on the line like that, but you’re an athlete! I was possibly harming your career too by kissing you, and I didn’t care enough! Back then I didn’t know you. It was a lustful infatuation, but that night got in my head and it stuck with me and I wanted to get to know you so badly that I actually tricked you. 

“First, I asked you out on live fucking television! How unprofessional is that? How messed up? But then I had to follow it up by literally tricking you into a sponsorship to get closer to you because you weren’t going to say yes. And that pissed you off, right? You disappeared for two fucking weeks trying to figure out if you forgave me or not.”

Type seemed to be at a loss for words and so Tharn decided to continue his rant, all the words spilling out of his mouth, amazed he could be overheard by the thunder roaring outside. “And I kissed you in that photoshoot and I promised to be just your friend but here we were… acting like we were seeing each other. Sleeping in bed next to each other, giving each other those looks and accidental grazes for the camera and shit… it was so hard to control how much I just wanted to have you. And then Tar comes back and I thought, oh, here’s a distraction. I could use Tar to help me get over you. I was fooling myself into thinking I still had feelings for him because that was the easiest way to get over you! But then I cheated on him! With you! How can you want me after that? How can you think I deserve you after all that, Type? I should rot alone for everything I did to the both of you!”

“Oh how fucking noble of you, huh, Tharn?” Type yelled out in response, taking Tharn completely by surprise. It wasn’t what he had expected in the least. “You mess up. You screw up and now you’re punishing yourself for it. Well, guess what? It doesn’t make any of what you did okay! It still happened! It’s still in our history! But I don’t give a fuck! I’m sick and tired of trying to force my feelings in a box and control them. Aren’t you tired of it? These last few months have been the hardest, most difficult time for me! I lost my fucking career, but here I am, instead of thinking of a way to get it back, I’m standing in front of you trying to figure out what I can fucking say to get you to realize that I’m actually fucking falling for you!” 

A loud crack broke overhead and the next moment, all the lights went out, casting them into darkness. Tharn only barely registered this, too busy staring at a panting Type in front of him, still damp and looking as if he’d just been running out in the storm. 

Type’s words echoed in his head. Type was falling for him. Type didn’t care about anything that Tharn had just said, any of the reasons that Tharn had given him for why they couldn’t be together. And it was frustrating, but not completely unexpected. 

Type slowly seemed to be realizing what he had said. Even in the dark, Tharn could see the way his face was lighting up pink, but he kept his face stern and stiff, his determination unwavering. Tharn couldn’t help but to admire it. Admire him. 

“Type… I don’t know what to do.” He admitted at last. “I don’t feel like I deserve you right now.”

The look on Type’s face slowly softened until he was sighing and stepping forward. Tharn glanced upwards the little bit to look into Type’s eyes as the other man moved closer to him, lifting his hand to slide his fingers along his face without saying a word. So close to him, even in the dark, Tharn could look at every detail. He could take in the way Type’s lashes brushed against his cheeks as he blinked, or the way the bridge of his nose curved just the slightest bit upwards before going back down. His eyes glanced down at his lips and the urge to lean forward and bite on his upper lip was great, but he held it back.

Type’s fingers were soft against his skin and Tharn suddenly remembered he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. Type brushed his fingers over the stubble that lined his jaw, looking intrigued by it, as if it were something new that he wasn’t used to, and he supposed it probably wasn’t.

So many things were new to Type. How could he be this brave? So much braver than Tharn and putting so much on the line, and for what? For him? For someone who might possibly hurt him in the future?

With that thought, he took Type’s hand and pulled it away from his face. He went to speak, but before he could, those lips pressed to his, effectively shutting him up. This seemed to be Type’s favorite move and Tharn could feel himself melting, feel his resolve wavering, but before it could completely, Type pulled away and stared at him.

“You don’t get to tell me what I deserve, Tharn.” Type’s words were soft but firm. 

Something about those words shot through Tharn. His breath stuttered and then he wondered why? Why was he fighting? When everything he had wanted for months was right in front of him, wanting him in return? 

Without another moment’s hesitation, he grasped the back of Type’s head and tugged him into another kiss. 

Type gasped into it, his mouth parting as Tharn bit down on that upper lip he wanted to taste again so badly. His hands gripped at him tightly, tugging the other man against him until there was no space for even wind to pass through. He sucked on the lip, feeling Type’s own fingers travel up into his hair, tugging at it while pulling his head closer, as if it were even possible. 

Tharn groaned, one hand squeezing at Type’s hip and then he walked backwards until he felt his back hit a wall and then spun around, pushing Type directly up against it, his knee moving in between Type’s legs. Type let out a noise as Tharn’s knee pressed upwards into him, careful, but not at all gentle. 

“Fuck…” Type cursed, tilting his head back and Tharn took the opportunity to attack at his throat. This was what he wanted. Everything that was right in front of him, beneath his hands and his mouth, this was what he wanted. He wanted Type, and Type was right. Why was he trying to punish himself when all that would do would hurt both of them?

And wasn’t hurting Type the last thing that he wanted to begin with? 

Type was already getting hard. Tharn could feel it against his knee and it caused him to pull back, looking at the other with a raised brow, face turning to one of amusement. Type narrowed his eyes and hit his arm before grasping at it and grinding himself downwards. Tharn’s eyes widened as he watched the display in front of him, the way Type rubbed downwards against his leg, and he lost his breath.

There was something so casually sexy about Type. The way he moved because of how he felt without giving a damn how it looked or seemed. Tharn enjoyed it. He enjoyed it almost too much. 

The storm still raged outside, the lack of electricity still casting them into darkness and shadows, but it was like an aura surrounded Type. Tharn could see him perfectly even in the dark, the way he tilted his head, the way his brows furrowed and lips parted and he wanted to see more of it. He reached downwards and began to strip Type, eager to see him without close, eager to put more marks over the ones that had already surely healed.

Type didn’t fight or argue, instead letting himself be removed of all clothes. Tharn didn’t stop until he was down to his underwear, and then he only hesitated before deciding that he wanted Type completely naked. But, before he could even make a move to pull them off, Type did it himself, pushing his underwear down his hips and thighs and kicking them somewhere into the darkened room. 

Tharn tried to focus his gaze, but his eyes were going everywhere, taking anything that he could make out in and admiring the view. Type was throbbing between his legs and Tharn wished that they were back in his bedroom, where his lube was.

Instead, he spit into his hand and then reached down, wrapping his palm around his length and beginning to jerk him. Type’s face relaxed into one of obvious pleasure, the noises coming from him almost too dramatic to actually be real, but Tharn had learned from experience that everything about Type was real. Those noises were what he was actually feeling in the moment.

It caused a stirring in his own pants and he groaned, dropping down onto his knees and wrapping his mouth around Type’s cock. He sucked at the tip, swirling his tongue around and looked upwards, passed the soft belly and Tharn thought about how much he enjoyed the softness of Type’s hips and waist, but enjoyed the firmness of his legs. 

Type grasped at his hair, tugging at it harsh enough that he could feel it pulling at his roots, but he found himself enjoying it more than anything. A surprise to him, actually, but maybe it was because it was Type. He thought he could enjoy anything Type did to him so long as it was Type doing it. 

Type patted his shoulder and Tharn pulled back, looking up at him a little breathlessly. Type seemed to be trying to get ahold of himself, hand squeezing over his shoulder. “Let’s--I want you to fuck me. I want you to put your cock inside of me and fuck me so hard that I’m still feeling it days from now.” Type groaned out and Tharn’s mouth went dry as he listened. 

Tharn slid his hands over Type’s hips and waist, rubbing at him and then he leaned his head on his thigh with a groan because all he wanted to do was get inside of Type’s tight body, but the lube was in his room which was much too far away from him for now, but he needed to get it. In the back of his mind he wondered if he would need to start keeping lube in every room of his place before shaking his head. It was too soon for thoughts like that. 

With a breath, he pushed himself up and grasped Type’s hand tightly in his own. “Come on,” he told him before tugging him quickly to the bedroom, pushing him over onto the bed and rolling him over onto his stomach, dropping back down onto his knees. He pressed his lips to one of the mounds and bit down, sucking the flesh into his mouth harshly as he listened to Type’s moans.

“If you want me to fuck you, Type… I’m going to fuck you.” He promised, reaching over to his drawer to pull the bottle and a condom out. He felt Type shift himself and looked up to see him leaning on his forearm, peering over his shoulder and down at him curiously. 

Tharn stared him in the eyes as he covered his fingers with lube and then began to press them inside of Type’s tight entry. The man on the bed groaned and pressed his head down in the covers, his legs spreading further apart and Tharn smiled. Those moans belonged to him. He was causing them. He got to hear them. Nobody else did. And hopefully no one else ever would.

He watched as his fingers disappeared further into Type’s body, the pressure around his fingers heavy and hot, but he did his best to stretch him, knowing he’d need it if he were to go as hard as Type seemed to want. 

Type was writhing against the bed, his naked body still damp from the rain and when Type cried out, a large moan echoing through the room, Tharn knew he’d found the golden spot. He pressed at it, teasing it and grinning as he watched Type whine and thrust himself against the bed. Tharn wanted to commit this particular spot to memory, memorize it as best he could for future use. 

“There we go…” he murmured, not sure if his voice was loud enough over Type’s gasps and the thunder still sounding from around them. 

Tharn pulled his fingers out from Type’s body, hearing an automatic groan at the loss and he smiled to himself, quickly tugging his pants down to pull himself free. He tore the condom open that he had set aside, rolled it over himself, and then gave himself a few jerks, spreading some lube over his length. He then stood, grabbing a pillow to place under Type’s head. “Here, take this.”

Type grabbed it and clutched, raising his ass up into the air without even being need to be told and Tharn couldn’t help but laugh, pressing his hand into the small of Type’s back. “What a good boy.” A choked noise escaped from Type and Tharn filed that away for future usage as well. Apparently, Type liked that sort of thing? 

He shuffled in between his legs, taking his length in his hand as he spread Type’s cheeks apart. The puckering hole was practically begging for him and he let out a small curse before moving himself forward. He pressed his tip right up against him, looking down as Type clutched at the pillow, and then in one swift movement, he pushed forward, entering into Type.

The man moaned out, the sound muffled from the pillow and Tharn let out a long groan, letting go of his base to grab Type’s hips with both hands. He continued to move into him, sheathing himself into Type’s heat and he was going to give the other a moment to relax and get used to him, but he felt Type suddenly start moving his ass backwards.

“F-fuck don’t stop… Th-Tharn just--fuck…!” Type groaned, turning his head just enough to look at him. “I w-want to feel you moving inside of me.”

The words set him on fire and far be it from Tharn to deny Type what he so clearly wanted. He grasped at the other man’s hips and then began to thrust. He grunted as he tugged Type’s hips back towards his jerking forward, the sound of Type’s curses almost loud enough to drown out the thunder.

“J-just like that! F-fuck…!” Type cried out, rocking his hips back so desperately that Tharn almost couldn’t keep out. “You feel so good inside of me… like y-you were meant to be in there, sh-shit--”

Tharn slid his entire arm around Type’s waist, holding him against him. He cursed himself for not having undressed himself completely, dying to feel skin to skin contact. But for now, he merely decided to concentrate on the feeling of Type around him. He was so tight and hot and practically squeezing around him so much that Tharn could barely even pull himself free of his body. 

Maybe the strength of even that muscle had something to do with how athletic he was. Tharn worked out, but he had a feeling that Type was about to give him a run for his money.

The bed shook beneath them just a bit and Tharn slid his hand down to wrap around Type’s heated length. The touch caused Type to hiss and arch his head backwards which Tharn attacked with fervor. His body was heating rapidly and he could feel his lower stomach beginning to tighten up. He was so close. So very close--and then Type cried out, his entire body trembling and clenching and Tharn bit down on his neck at the suddenness of it, causing Type to curse out. 

Tharn then came, spilling himself into the condom, his body wanting nothing more than to collapse on top of the beautiful man beneath him, but he held off, jerking Type faster as he continued to thrust into him, riding out his orgasm until he could feel Type’s body tightening up and something hot and sticky spilling over his hand.

Only once Type had collapsed onto the bed in his own mess did Tharn pull himself out of the other’s body and collapse back onto his back, his chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling. A moment later he felt something wiggle against him and turned his head to see Type curling up beneath his arm, giving him a look that reminded Tharn of a playful kitten.

He took in a sharp breath at that image, wondering if his sudden blush was possible to be seen beneath his sweating body and in the darkness of the room. 

“Do you…” Type began after a moment, once the two of them had caught their breath. “Do you regret that?” He asked carefully and Tharn tilted his head, looking at the dark, wide eyes, able to sense the slight worry that was hidden in them.

Tharn gently grazed his clean hand over Type’s back, feeling the athlete shift himself even closer, sliding one leg around his to lock them together. Did he regret this?

He shook his head lightly. “No. Not this time.” Type’s face twitched and slowly a smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling even in the dark and Tharn lost his breath. 

It was the most beautiful image he had ever seen.

Type was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. Maybe he really was already in love with him.


	41. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I haven't gotten to write much recently so I've completely caught up on all my written chapters so I hate to say this, but I'm going to take a small break from updating so that I can get some more chapters written because I feel too pressured otherwise! Once I have some chapters ready, I will be back to the normal updating schedule!
> 
> But do expect other stories to pop-up on here. I've already gotten a mewgulf one-shot completed and i'm also working on a couple of others, so you won't be totally without stuff to read. ;) And while I do that, I'll work on getting more WAK written to start updates again! It shouldn't be long hopefully. Don't worry, you're not going to go weeks without hearing from me and WAK ;) I just didn't want you guys to worry when I suddenly stop updating for a bit.

Type trailed his fingertip over the nose of the man watching him in amusement. He felt a little bit like a child, curious and eager to learn. He wanted to learn every inch of Tharn’s body, memorize every crevice and curve and currently, he was stuck at his nose. It was a nice nose, one that Type kind of wanted to lean forward and kiss. The idea made him embarrassed so instead he pulled back, sliding his hand beneath the pillow and clinging to it, blinking his eyes at the other man as if trying to communicate to him how much he wanted to be held in that moment.

Amazingly, Tharn seemed to understand his silent way of communication because the next thing Type knew, Tharn was rolling over onto his side, sliding his arm around his waist, and pulling him closer to his chest. 

His lips twitched, but he fought back the smile as he leaned himself into the other man. His boyfriend? Was Tharn his boyfriend now? The word caused his breath to hitch. He liked the sound of it. Type removed his hand from beneath the pillow and pressed it instead against Tharn’s chest, directly against his heart. 

He wanted to be Tharn’s boyfriend. 

It was still raining outside, the lights not yet having come back on, but his eyes had adjusted enough so that he could see Tharn clearly, though he could feel him better than anything. He could feel his muscles against his hand, could feel the ghost of Tharn’s lips against his skin, and best of all, he could still feel how Tharn had been inside of him just minutes before. 

He shifted a little beneath the covers. They had cleaned up and decided to relax, both too exhausted to get up and shower right away and this was fine for Type. He didn’t think his legs could hold him at the moment. Type still felt stretched and sore and didn’t really want to move. He was perfectly content to rest against the other man’s chest, feeling the beating of his heart beneath his ribs. Tharn was so warm and comfortable and alive. He liked the way he could hear his pulse quicken when Type would lean up to kiss his cheek. It was amazing to know that he could have that sort of effect on someone.

“You’re a lot cuddlier than I expected.” Tharn told him lightly and Type raised a brow at him. He supposed he could see how that could be surprising to someone. Type wasn’t a very affectionate person usually. 

“Only when I want to be.” He replied, pressing his face against Tharn’s shoulder. The arm around his waist squeezed him just a bit, holding him more firmly against Tharn’s chest. He relaxed into the embrace, perfectly happy with their positions.

“So you want to be?” Fingers lifted to his hair, brushing in through the strands, lightly scraping at his scalp. Type let a soft moan, eyes falling shut as he leaned into the touch.

“I didn’t say that.” He lightly argued, even though his body was saying the exact opposite. By the sound of Tharn’s laugh, he didn’t seem to believe him. Type didn’t mind that too much, instead continuing to nuzzle into the petting of his head. 

“I’m sorry, Type.” Type peaked an eye open, looking up at Tharn who was staring at him apologetically, a small frown on his face.

Type sighed and opened his eyes completely. “What are you sorry for?”

“For everything. For pushing you away. Trying to pretend like I know what’s best for you.” Type nodded along to each of his points. 

“Aa, good. Just don’t do it again.” He told him and before he could lose is courage, he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Tharn melted into it at once, his hand cupping at the back of his head to hold him closer. Type made a soft moan into the kiss, his lips parting as he wiggled himself closer, pressing his still naked body flush up against Tharn’s. He could feel him against his hip, feel the way their tongues were playing around with each other got other parts of his now lover more excited. Tharn kept biting and sucking on his upper lip and Type just knew that it’d be swollen by the time they had made their way out of bed, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He also couldn’t find it in himself to want to get out of bed.

Wouldn’t staying in bed just be a lot more wonderful than ever leaving it? Ever having to worry about anything else ever again? 

And then right at that moment, there was a small noise and the sound of the aircon starting up sounded through the room. The electric buzz returned to the apartment and the hall light flickered back to life. Type let out a breath and pulled away from Tharn, stretching himself out against the pillows, not failing to notice the way Tharn looked him over. 

“We should shower.”

“Together?” Tharn asks, a hopeful tone to his voice.

Type looked at him appraisingly and then shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant about the entire thing, even though inside he was shouting a resounding ‘yes’ to the idea. 

“Or would a bath be a better idea?” Tharn asks, looking downwards and Type feels his body flush. 

“I--a bath is fine.” He grumbles, knowing that it’d probably be better on him. He wasn’t used to this sort of thing, his body was sore and ached from how hard they’d gone at it. It could probably use a soak in the tub. He didn’t fail to notice Tharn’s grin.

Tharn leaned over and pecked his cheek, leaving Type blushing because of it. The other man then pulled back and stood. Type couldn’t help but to glance downwards, swallowing at the sight of Tharn’s length dangling between his legs. That had been inside of him. 

“I’ll go start the bath. Then I’ll come back for you.” Tharn was smiling and Type quickly pulled his eyes back up towards his face with a quick nod, trying to stop himself from looking at the other’s ass as he walked off into the bathroom.

He allowed himself a quick look before turning away completely. Definitely easier said than done. 

A few minutes later, he was nestled up against Tharn’s chest who had filled the tub with heated water and bottles. At first, Type had grumbled about how childish the bubbles were before quickly starting to blow them into Tharn’s face with a laugh, feeling relaxed as the other playfully grumbled and squeezed him around the waist. Perhaps he was feeling a bit childish, but that was okay.

“You’re sort of ridiculously cute.” 

“I’m not.” Type denied, even as gave Tharn a bubble beard. 

“I wouldn’t have ever guessed I’d have such a tsundere boyfriend.” They both paused after Tharn said that. Tharn had wide eyes, realizing what he’d said, though they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it just yet. Type dropped his hand into the tub, facing forward. 

His heart was pounding as he moved his hand along in the water. “Well, I never would’ve guessed that I’d have a boyfriend at all.” He replied softly and then held his breath, waiting for Tharn’s reply.

It came only a moment later in the form of a kiss pressed to his neck and bubbles clinging to his shoulder. “So… you’ll be my boyfriend?” 

Tharn’s words were soft and hopeful and Type let out a breath before turning his head and lifting his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Since just awhile ago you were trying to tell me you weren’t good enough for you.”

“Well--”

“Yes. I’m your boyfriend.” Type interrupted. “More importantly, you’re mine, so if you ever try making decisions for me ever again, I’m going to fucking kick your ass, Mr. Rockstar.” Type gave him a nudge with his elbow and Tharn let out a small groan. “Please, that barely touched you, it didn’t hurt.”

Tharn just grinned at him, his fingers moving along his waist and Type quickly jerked away, his eyes wide. “What are you doing, Tharn?” Tharn’s fingers slid upwards and Type took in a sharp breath, biting down on his lip. “Th-Tharn, don’t--”

But before he could even get the statement out, Tharn was moving his fingers all along his side, tickling him and Type tried to move away, the water splashing over the edge of the bath. He let out a laugh, kicking his feet desperately to try and get Tharn to stop but he was in the wrong position for that, instead just sliding deeper into the bath. 

“Tharn!” He yelped, but his boyfriend just laughed and grabbed him, pulling him even closer and then they kissed and Type grabbed him around the shoulders, happily accepting his tongue into his mouth. 

Type clung to him, not wanting to let go. It had been such a long time coming and this felt so right, so natural, that Type was beginning to wonder why he had ever fought this at all. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t flee’d on New Years? What would’ve happened if he’d agreed to that date Tharn had asked him out on during live television? 

It didn’t really matter, he supposed. Now he was here, right in Tharn’s arms, kissing him, holding him, feeling right at home. 

-

‘Comfortable.’ Type had posted beneath the picture of him and Tharn he had uploaded. It was quite the picture, he had to admit. One of him seated in between Tharn’s legs, leaning against his chest, the two of them smiling stupidly as Type couldn’t keep his eyes off of Tharn. It was a real couple picture. Their first one. 

Right away, it started getting hundreds and then thousands of likes and comments and Type had to not look at it for his own sanity. Most of the comments were fine, but others were asking him about the rumors and he just ignored them, closing out of IG and instead looked over to Tharn who was cooking something up. 

Type was laying on the couch. The rain had finally slowed to a light drizzle, the electricity was on, and he felt nice and relaxed and cool and as if this was where he was supposed to be. He was kind of dreading leaving. 

“You ready to eat?” Tharn asked as he finished up his cooking, setting the food on the table. Type raised a brow and craned his neck before stretching out his legs.

“I’m still too sore to move.” He told him and Tharn looked up, giving him a look.

“Is that so?”

Type pouted his lips and nodded and watched as Tharn walked over, standing in front of him. His breath hitched as he craned his neck to look up at his new boyfriend, appreciating the way his muscles flexed beneath his light colored shirt. 

Tharn then leaned down, sliding an arm beneath Type’s legs and around his back and Type yelped, grasping hold of Tharn’s shoulders as he was picked up. “Oi, Tharn!”

“You said you were still sore.” Tharn replied, carrying him over to the table and then settling him down in a chair. Type’s entire face was warm and he was sure it was bright pink, especially as Tharn grinned and laughed as he sat down across from him.

“Asshole.” He grumbled, but his heart skipped as he thought about how nice it was to be picked up like that. Maybe he could get Tharn to do it again some time. He just had to think of ways to get him to do it without asking. 

“Your asshole.” Tharn smiled and Type’s lips twitched before he quickly grabbed his bowl of rice to shove some into his mouth to hide his reaction. 

“So, how does this work?” 

“Hm?” Tharn tilted his head, looking a little confused.

Type sighed. “Being… boyfriends.” 

Tharn let out another small laugh. “You’ve dated before, haven’t you?”

“Not a guy.”

“It’s basically the same as with a girl. Except you’re dating a guy.” Tharn answered, reaching across the table to run his fingers over Type’s hand. Type shivered a little, turning his hand over so that his palm was face up. Tharn pressed his palm down against Type’s. “I’ll show you. Tomorrow we’ll go on a date.” 

“A date?” Type asks, raising his brows. 

“An official date. We’ve already fake dated, Type. You should know it’s really not that different. Except now we get to do… other things.” Tharn stated slowly, fingers now trailing along the inside of Type’s wrist.

Type shivered a little at the feeling. “Other things… meaning…” Tharn nodded in reply and Type cleared his throat, unable to help but think about the feeling of Tharn holding him down against the bed and thrusting into him. If those were the added benefits, then Type didn’t really mind if it was mostly the same. “Well--you better make it a good first date.” 

“It’ll be the best first date, Type.” Tharn told him softly, squeezing his hand. “I promise.”


End file.
